


A Painter's Embrace

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: A World of Wings: ABO Fiction [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst, Dragon Dynamics, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Original ABO world, Regency Romance, Romance, Smut, Wingfic, Wings, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 117,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Read the Introduction to the Series A World of Wings: ABO Fiction first!!ABO Wings!Fic set in the Regency Period. Colonel Rogers, the Earl of Denton, finally finds his omega, but how long will Elizabeth Heartright, Lord Stark's ward, make him chase her before she gives in to the desire raging in her heart?At the same time, Lieutenant Commander Barnes finds his omega, Constance Stark, but will the torture he suffered at the hands of the French keep them apart? Or can a weyr like no other help them come together?First part is the Introduction, giving you the history and mentality of my ABO world. This is a dragon based world, not wolf.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None

## Chapter One

 

* * *

Lady Elizabeth Heartright, the darling of the Ton - the high society set of stuffy and rather tedious people she socialized with - was standing in the ballroom of Iron Court, doing her best to ward off the unwanted advances of many a suitor. She had only just managed to escape out from under the attention of Lord Davenport, the overbearing alpha who seemed unable - or more likely unwilling - to take no for an answer, and she was desperately thirsty.

Just because she was an omega did not mean she would roll over for the first male who snarled at her, and this male had been snarling for quite some time. However, having been raised by an alpha father and a beta mother, and being the Omega Queen she was, she had far more backbone than most women of her type.

It was off-putting to some, but, all in all, she had decided if the males who came calling could not handle a little bite in their omega, she did not want them for an alpha. As she was also the heir to the Heartright fortune, every male with even a modicum of pedigree was hanging off her primaries. Weeding out a few of the less desirable set, those who could not tolerate her… quirks made her life easier.

She shook her wings to free the tension in her shoulders. They’d been held in a defensive position for so long Lizzy was certain she would have a headache to contend with the next day thanks to her tight back muscles.

“Lady Heartright, you are most fortunate to have caught the eye of Lord Davenport. He is a fine alpha,” Martha Winthrop said, swooning slightly at Lizzy’s side.

She tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “I would rather have caught the eye of a mallard,” she muttered, tugging her glove up her elbow and taking the cup of punch offered her by the servant at the refreshment table. Martin’s eyes twinkled merrily, apparently enjoying her pronouncement, but she did not hold it against him. The landed servants of this house all knew they could trust her to keep her mouth shut when it came to their amusements and entertainments.

“Lady Heartright!” Martha gasped, her blue eyes wide in shock and dowdy grey wings fluttering in distress. “Hush yourself. Whatever would your mother say?”

“She would say Lizzy had every right to choose her mate, Miss Winthrop. Now, go away and let Lizzy be.”

Lizzy smiled past the rim of her cup at the approaching woman in sky blue silk. The high waist of her gown was patterned with loops of pearls and heavy embroidery, mimicked on the short, puffy sleeve. Wings of black and grey swept out behind her, a startling contrast to Constance’s bright red hair. Had it been anyone else to speak so to Martha there would have been hell to pay, but, as it was Constance Stark, daughter and heir to Lord Stark the Earl of Iron and host for the evening, Martha bobbed a curtsey and hurried off, her wings folded tightly to her spine.

“Thank you, Constance,” Lizzy said, linking her arm through the proffered one after returning her cup to the servant.

She smiled and led Lizzy away from the refreshments to take a slow turn around the room. “I was actually coming to save you from the advances of Lord Davenport when father waylaid me.” An omega herself, she lifted her wings high and wrapped one around the back of Lizzy, indicating their desire for privacy when the males looked to advance upon them.

Lizzy and Constance had been friends from birth, the Starks and the Heartrights close in both age and distance, so when at the tender age of ten both of Lizzy’s parents were killed in a carriage accident, it had been to the Starks she had gone.

Her father’s will had made it quite clear Lizzy was to be allowed to choose her own path in life and love, as her parents had before her, and Lord Stark had been most accommodating. Yes, it was an oddity in this age, a woman, an Omega Queen at that, being allowed to rule her own life, but Anthony Edward Stark was an eccentric man himself.

An inventor, he had created many a unique trinket. Some of which had gone to help the war effort against Napoleon and his army. Lord Stark was an oddity, but then his wife, Lady Pepper was no better. An alpha and an omega who fit so perfectly their love was blinding, but Lord help anyone who tried to intimidate Lady Pepper.

The woman was as fiery as her hair and wings implied. A vibrant red, Lizzy had heard her take many an overbearing alpha or beta to task with the sharpness of her tongue. Was it any wonder the Ton knew both Lizzy and Constance as spirited women?

Stubborn was the word used by polite company. Pigheaded was the one used behind closed doors. Unseemly most likely as well.

Such was the reason that at twenty and one summer’s Lizzy was still unmated and unwed. She had yet to find a mate to suit her. One for whom she could love and be loved without the restrictions of society. One who could tolerate her strong-headed ways, silly quirks, and stubborn qualities. She would not be meek. She would not simper and cower and walk two steps behind her alpha. She would be his partner in life. Not just a body he could breed his offspring on.

“Take a breath, Lizzy. Your irritation is spiking,” Constance murmured, curling her wing tighter around them.

“My apologies. I was woolgathering again,” she sighed softly.

“You worry you will never find an alpha worthy of you. I understand, Lizzy. I have the same fear.”

It was too dower a subject for such a splendid fête, and Lizzy pushed the distressing thoughts to the side. “Tell me what your father wanted?”

“It appears his honoured guests have arrived. He was going to greet them personally before bringing them into the ball and was stepping away for a moment.”

“This is the Earl of Denton and his friend? The ones from the war effort?” Lizzy asked curiously.

The Earl was spoken of frequently and with great admiration by Lord Stark. He had been a staunch supporter of Tony’s weapons and gadgets, using many of them himself on the front lines of the battle.

“Indeed,” Constance giggled softly, her excitement clear in her scent. “Father is most pleased to meet them after corresponding with them for so long. Tis a shame it is injury which has returned them to us from France, but good fortune the Earl lives only a short flight away.”

Lizzy wondered if some of Constance’s excitement was due to how both males were unknown to them. Perhaps one would make a fitting mate for her friend. For Lizzy herself, she simply hoped neither would chase after her like a hawk after a sparrow. She was tired of the constant barrage of suitors, almost ready to place herself squarely off the market simply to have a break from the incessant banter.

She knew as all omegas did, she was a highly desirable commodity. She was also not blind to the image of herself in the mirror. Her hair had been likened to a raven’s feathers so many times; she often wished she could change it if only to hear a different remark. Her wings, _a swans crowning glory dipped in the moon’s shining beams_ was enough to make her gag. Her eyes _like storm-swept skies_ … Please! She’d read better prose in the trashy novels smuggled in by the landed servants.

“How nice for them,” she commented absently.

“Lizzy, darling, are you feeling alright?” Constance asked, giving the air a surreptitious sniff.

“Stop it, Constance. You know you and I… do that at the same time.” She blushed, refusing to speak about heats in public.

“You appeared so sad, Lizzy. I was worried about you,” Constance murmured, coming to a stop in a slightly secluded corner of the ballroom.

Lizzy sighed and leaned her head against Constance’s shoulder, her best friend’s wings now hiding them fully from view. “I have grown weary of the pretense. At times I think I should simply become the maiden aunt to your offspring and spend father’s fortune on frivolous things. Perhaps I should become an eccentric cat collector.”

“Perish the thought!” Constance scoffed, not a cat person herself. “But I know, love.” She smiled gently, cupping Lizzy’s cheeks. “Do not give up hope just yet. I truly believe something good is about to happen.”

“If you say so.” Lizzy wiped the lone tear from her cheek. “I will forever be grateful to your father for never once pushing me to choose.”

“Mother would pluck his feathers if he tried,” she giggled, returning them to their leisurely strolling.

“Uncle Stark _is_ most vain about his feathers.” The man had large wings of black and red and gold. They were quite stunning and most intimidating when he was in a mood. “At times I think he spends more time preening than even you, dear Const…” Her voice trailed off when the hullabaloo erupted near the entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stark called out, his wings lifted high as he stood atop the stairs. “It is my great honour and privilege to present to you, Colonel Rogers, the Earl of Denton, and Lieutenant Colonel Barnes, Lord of Winterborne.”

The alpha’s wings swept down, and Lizzy’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh… my,” she whispered, unable to pull her eyes from the blond man in the red military uniform with ropes of gold braiding and lapels of navy. He stood tall and regal at the top of the stairs in breeches of white silk and high boots. Though impeccably dressed, he was outfitted so differently from the rest of the men in the room he quite stood out from the others.

His short cropped hair curled ever so slightly at his ears and over his forehead, while eyes of crystalline blue could be seen even at a distance. When he stepped forward and bowed to the room, she felt a blossom of heat curl in her core for he had the most beautiful golden wings she’d ever seen.

They lifted up, high and wide, spreading out behind him magnificently. Lizzy had never seen so many shades of gold. Everything from deep, rich antique to bright and shiny as a newly minted coin. It wasn’t until his primaries fanned out she noted the shocking touch of bronze along the tips.

Her heart fairly pounded, and she lifted a hand to her throat to contain the flutter. “Constance…” she whispered.

“Oh… my,” her friend sighed.

Lizzy felt a moment of panic. Certainly, Constance couldn’t be as entranced by the alpha - and an alpha he must be with those wings - as she was. When she darted a glance her way, Lizzy nearly sobbed in relief for Constance’s gaze was not on the golden one, but rather the rougher looking dark male at his side.

Lord Barnes appeared the quintessential rake in his red uniform and breeches of black highlighting his thick muscles. He was dressed as the Earl in high boots though his hair was a touch too long to be fashionable. When his wings lifted, brushing along the edge of the Earl’s in a move born of familiarity, Constance sighed at their grandeur. They were the deepest, purest black Lizzy had ever seen. They appeared to absorb the light around him until he was wreathed in shadow and proclaimed him an alpha as well.

In truth, he scared Lizzy a little. There was a hardness to him she was disinclined to be acquainted with. But Constance, her much more adventurous friend, appeared wholly enamoured of the dark soldier.

It was not until the two men made to descend the stairs that Lizzy became aware of the injuries which had seen them returning home. The Colonel leaned heavily on a silver-headed cane, his limp pronounced, while a sling tied across his body hindered the Lieutenant's left arm.  

“Come, Lizzy dear. We should make our presence known to them before they are encumbered by any number of fawning females.”

She eyed Constance with amusement. “Are you not simply adding yourself the mix of fawning females?”

“What? No!” she huffed. “As a Stark myself, and you as father’s ward, it is only correct we introduce ourselves.”

Lizzy detached her arm from Constance with a small smile. “You go on. I am going to take in the air on the terrace. It is far too stuffy in here for me.” And with everyone flocking to the newcomers, perhaps she could find a moments peace and a welcome touch of privacy.

“Are you certain you are alright?” Constance asked, torn between coming with her and inserting herself into the growing circle of simpering omegas.

“Go. I will be fine.” She smiled, patted Constance’s hand, and shooed her away.

Once her friend was off in a flutter of feathers, Lizzy turned to the exterior doors and made her way outside to stand in the shadows along the railing.

It was a soft night in the English countryside. The air was fresh and clean, the stars were bright, and she inhaled the satisfaction of it. But it was a short-lived peace for, when she lifted her wings high and wide behind her, letting them stretch after the tightness induced by Lord Davenport’s presence, a hand, big and rough and unwanted, landed on the bare flesh between them.

Her shriek of fear ripped through the night as she spun to face the intruder, snapping her wings around herself protectively to glare at the man for whom she held only contempt.

“Come now, darling. Is that any way to treat your alpha? When will you end this charade? We both know you will be mine eventually.” Davenport leered at her, his hand skimming the edge of her feathers.

“Do not touch me, sir!” Lizzy yelped, stepping back and finding herself trapped against the railing.

He stepped into her, murky brown wings coming up to hide them from view, the alpha doing his best to intimidate her into submitting. “Why should I not touch what is mine, little omega? You keep running from me, but you will give me what I want eventually.”

He gripped her by a wing and yanked her toward him, causing Lizzy to cry out and fear to explode in her scent. “No! Get away from me!”

He dragged her closer and pushed his nose into her neck, stroking it up to scent her and leaving his foul one behind when he licked at her skin. “You smell lush, Elizabeth.”

“Someone, help me!” she cried. Well aware the noise of the ball would likely muffle her plea, Lizzy brought her free wing up, smacking him in the jaw with the hard arc of bone, knocking his face away and his grip from her feathers.

“You will pay for that, omega!” he snarled, eyes tinting red.

She wanted to cower, wanted to back away from the rage, but she would not fall beneath the _Will_ of this heinous male. “Stay away from me!” Lizzy snapped, sweeping her wings down to launch herself to the railing she was trapped against. “Your company is neither requested nor wanted. I reject you, Lord Davenport, and shall be informing Lord Stark of this blatant breach of good manners!”

He made to lunge for her, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“The lady has made her wishes known, sir. It is time for you to abandon your quest.”

“Who the hell do you think you are interfering in business between an alpha and his omega?” Davenport snarled as he spun around, wings raised high, seeking to intimidate Lizzy’s would be rescuer.

Lizzy gasped when the other male’s wings lifted and snapped outward. They fairly doubled that of Davenport’s and were shining shimmering gold. The omega in her whimpered, and Lizzy nearly did as well when she whispered, “Warlord Alpha.”

***

“I would be Colonel Steven Grant Rogers, Earl of Denton, and I would thank you, sir, to stop harassing that omega! She clearly is not yours nor does she wish to be.” Steve felt his alpha surge, the secondary biology which drove him to follow instincts old as time. It whipped out as a lash against the lesser alpha, slapping him with a wall of his _Will_ not many could resist for long.

His instincts had led him here to the terrace when his ear had caught the first muffled scream. When he’d arrived at the door to find the woman needing assistance was the incredible dove he’d seen across the ballroom, his heart had clenched.

She was lovely with hair like ink, skin like cream, and eyes of slate grey, but it was her wings which had drawn his attention. Even across the expanse of the room he could see they were the purest of white, a shimmering alabaster, but stretched to their full extent as she made to escape her assailant he found they were even more remarkable for not only did they proclaimed her a Queen, but the underside gleamed like mother of pearl. A cascade of pastel colours, all soft and glorious, while the tip of her primaries appeared dipped in silver.

His artist’s heart thumped a hard cadence. What would it take to have her agreeing to sit for a portrait? Would he even be able to capture the magnificence of such wings?

Her impassioned snarl was so unlike an omega he’d had to take a moment to find his bearings before making his way out on the terrace to assist her; the pain in his leg momentarily forgotten.

“The Golden Devil…” Davenport whispered, the red leaving his eyes as his wings folded submissively behind him. “I beg pardon, my lord.”

“You should be begging the pardon of Lady…?” He looked up to the ethereal creature standing on the railing like an Egret about to take flight.

“Heartright, my lord.” She bobbed an effective curtsey for one so precariously perched.

“Lady Heartright as it is she you have distressed.” Steve glowered at Davenport until the man snapped a swift bow.

“Miss. I beg forgiveness for my forward actions. I shall inform your Uncle I will be withdrawing my suit. Good evening.”

He straightened, nodded to Steve, and returned inside, allowing Steve to appreciate the beauty before him fully. The shimmering lavender of her gown hugged her breasts. He could tell she would be trim of waist and round of hip even had she not been laced into a corset. The ribbon beneath her breasts was a darker variation of purple, strung with beads and jewels, a match for the bands of her sleeves and the collar of her pretty dress. Pins held up her curls, ones of flowers and butterflies, appearing to fly across the blanket of night her hair had become.

She was utterly disarming.

He had never been so enraptured by a woman at first glance before. Then, the breeze shifted, carrying her scent to his nose and he almost growled. _Mine_. The stunning dove was his.

His mate. His omega. His Queen. His.

And her fear scented the air.

The very thought of her being afraid of him snapped him out of his haze of scents and instincts. “You are safe,” he said softly, stepping closer, his limp going unnoticed in favour of enticing the little female to him. “Come down, pretty dove.” He held up his hand to assist her, lowering his wings to be less threatening, but leaving them spread out, a hard to resist temptation.

She looked at him suspiciously for a time, one hand repeatedly rubbing over the scent gland on her throat, driving him insane with the desire to do so himself. After what felt an eternity of time, she reached for his hand and took it gently to step with grace and a curl of her wings to the ground.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, unable to look away from her eyes. “A gentleman must assist a lady in distress.”

She blushed, the colour highlighting her cheeks. “What a special breed of gentleman you must be. Not many would have stood against Lord Davenport.”

“Aggravating sot,” Steve muttered, earning a surprised giggle. The musical sound made him smile. “Would you sit with me, Lady Heartright? I’m afraid my leg is still not quite healed.”

“Oh! How dreadful of me to keep you standing. Please.” She took his arm and led him slowly across the terrace to sit on a stone bench.

Steve stretched his leg out and rubbed at his thigh, well aware of the spike of interest which floated between them. Unlike him, who’d caught the delectable natural scent of her and knew without a doubt she was his, his high collar, cravat, and heavy waistcoat effectively masked his scent to the point where she had not yet caught his.

“Heartright… Heartright… would you be Elizabeth Heartright, the ward of Lord Stark?” he asked, tilting his head, studying the way the moonlight seemed to shimmer over her feathers.

“Yes. He is my uncle… of a sort,” Lizzy smiled.

“Of a sort sounds rather mysterious. Are you a mysterious sort of omega, Lady Heartright?”

She laughed, bringing her gloved fingers to her lips before rubbing, again, the spot on her throat. It lifted her scent into the air, one mixed with that of Davenport.

His audacity offended Steve greatly. To mark an unwilling omega in such a way was frowned upon. This was not the days of yore when omegas were seen as chattel, property to be owned and parcelled out. They were people, human beings, and should be cherished and pampered, not bullied and forced.

“I hate to be a disappointment, my lord, but I am a plain country girl.” She shook her head, her eyes alight with amusement.

Steve reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled forth a handkerchief scented with lavender. “For your neck, if you’ll permit me?” he asked, motioning to the spot which was bothering her.

Her eyes grew round, and he thought she would reject his offer before a shift came over her, a rise of her secondary nature. She may not have caught his scent, but her omega was not averse to his alpha.

“Would you?” she asked softly.

Perhaps it was forward, but Steve would not allow himself to think of the impropriety when his need to care for the beautiful omega was making his alpha snarl. Evidently, her omega was pushing her to let him in much the same fashion.

Without further thought, he leaned toward her, her scent intoxicating to his senses. It made his head swim, and he longed to tuck his nose in her throat and lick away the offending odour of the other male. Instead, he gently wiped the linen over her skin.

She tilted her head, the act a submissive one which saw Steve biting back another growl. When the scent of the other male no longer lingered on her skin, he pulled away, but not before grazing her jaw with his thumb.

“Thank you, my lord,” she sighed. “His advances were unwanted. His actions even more so.”

“I am glad I arrived before he could force your hand,” Steve agreed.   

“Would you explain something to me, my lord?” she asked softly, her fingers twisting together.

“If I can, I will do so.”

“What did Lord Davenport mean by The Golden Devil?” She looked up at him with curious eyes.

Steve chuckled softly and shook his head. “It was a name given me by my men. The French captured Lord Barnes and a contingent of my soldiers. I knew where they were, and knew how to get to them, but was told to stand down and wait for reinforcements. Lord Barnes, James who goes by Bucky, has been my best friend, my brother, since our nursery days and when my parents passed, his took me in. I could not, would not leave him to the French. I disobeyed orders, went in after the contingent alone and freed the soldiers. We fought our way out, taking down one of Napoleon’s strongholds in the process. Bucky had been… well, it is not for polite company.”

“Tortured?” she asked, concern in her voice. “And as for polite company, I find it dreadfully dull. Speak as you will, Colonel Rogers.”

He smiled at her, happy to have her drop the _my lord_ stuffiness. He was too long in the military with men of a rough and tumble nature to hold with such formalities. “Yes, the Lieutenant had been tortured, his injuries great, but I refused to leave him behind. I fought my way through with Bucky on my shoulder. The men said watching me fight, wings high and sweeping, was like watching the devil. After, whenever we went into battle, it was said the sight of my wings alone was enough to send Napoleon’s forces fleeing. We were turning the tide of the war till this took me down.” He slapped his thigh with a sigh.

“And your friend? Was he also injured so?”

“In the same battle. Barnes is a crack marksman. A sniper, but when he saw me go down, he came to assist and took a bullet for his trouble.”

“Oh, how brave but how terrible,” she said, drawing her left wing closer. She winced when it moved, sending pain and distress into the air.

“Are you injured from your ordeal, Lady Heartright?”

“My wing is a trifle tender. I’m afraid Lord Davenport was rather insistent.”

Steve growled, low and deadly, but tenderly touched her sore wing. “Forgive my forwardness, but if anything is damaged…”

“No… I… I understand,” she blushed, extending it out to him.

As gently as possible, he manipulated the bones and tendons. When he finished, assured she was only bruised, Steve was unable to resist running his palm over the sleek feathers. “You have the most beautiful wings I have ever seen. I suppose one would say they were like a swan’s dipped in moonlight,” she stiffened, then sighed as if disappointed, “but I would not.”

“You wouldn’t?” Surprise had her lifting her head.

“No.” Steve shook his head, tenderly tracing a finger over the arch of her wing. “They are like a blanket of fresh snow upon the hills which sparkles beneath the glow of a full moon. A ribbon of a frozen river appears silver beneath the night sky to tip your primaries in its glory.”

She looked at him with eyes full of wonder before they darted down and away. “You… you honour me, Colonel,” she murmured.

A host of emotions rose from her to thrum against his alpha. _Happy, surprised, pleased, embarrassed_. They seemed to swirl in his nose and stroke his ego, urging him onward in his early pursuit of this sweet omega.

He gently manipulated her wing to touch the interior of her stunning feathers hesitantly. “But this, my lady, this took my breath away. It is as if someone inlaid your feathers in mother of pearl. I have never seen such wonders before.”

She blushed and gently pulling her wing from his grasp so they could sweep submissively down her back. Her lashes fluttered and more _pleased, happy, awed_ appeared in her scent. “I must admit, yours are… quite fetching as well.”

“These?” he asked sliding one forward, so it opened and cut off the light from the ballroom.

“Magnificent,” she whispered. Her hand lifted, but she hesitated before reaching for the top of her glove. She peeled it down, exposing her smooth forearm, only to pause at her wrist. “Please, do not think less of me?”

“I could never,” he whispered and took her hand to pull away each finger of her glove, freeing her of the fabric.

Her hand returned to his wing and gentle fingers, warm and soft, stroked languidly down them.

Steve felt her touch all the way to his soul. His cock jumped when she pressed her palm against his secondaries and jumped again when she traced the edge of one of his bronze-tipped primaries.

“They are so beautiful.”

“Omega,” he rumbled softly.

She turned to him, hand buried still in his feathers. Shy was written all over her posture.

When he held out his hand, she gave hers over willingly. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on the bare flesh. “Lord Barnes and I will be in residence a few days to discuss… things of a military nature with Lord Stark. Would it be forward of me to ask to spend time with you while we are here? To… to call upon you, Lady Heartright? Perhaps take in the grounds?”

“Yes,” she whispered, taking her hand back with reluctance to return her glove to its proper place.

“Yes, it would be forward, or yes, you would take a walk with me? Albeit a short one,” he teased gently, patting his thigh.

“Oh, no… I mean yes, I mean…” she cleared her throat, “I would be most delighted to take even a short walk with you, my lord.”

“And here I thought we’d slipped past silly formalities.” He took her hand and got slowly to his feet to balance on his good leg while he tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow. “I would be most pleased for you to call me Colonel Rogers, my lady.”

“Colonel,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with reflected stars.

“Allow me to escort you back to your Uncle.” He needed to stake a claim before another could, and speaking with her Uncle would expedite things.

“How did you manage to make it through all these people to assist me?” she asked, looking up at him curiously as they stepped back inside.

He smiled softly down at her. “Not many people can stand against me when I put my mind to something, fair lady.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed.” He bent a little closer, aware of the eyes on them. “I always get what I’m after. It’s part of my charm,” he said with a roguish smile.

She laughed in surprised delight. “I’m sure you are most charming… for a Golden Devil.”

Steve only smiled, pleased with her wit as her shyness waned, and lifted his wings to settle one behind hers before casting a glance around the room at the many disappointed faces both male and female. Clearly, they had all been hoping for more from both himself and the darling woman with him.

But it was of little consequence for this Golden Devil would have his sweet White Dove. Nothing and no one would stand in the way of a Warlord Alpha in pursuit of his Omega Queen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This one is a little smexy

## Chapter Two

* * *

Lizzy sat on the edge of the bed in her nightclothes and stared down at the knuckles on her right hand before lifting them to her nose. His scent, the alpha - Colonel Rogers - was a tease to her senses. So faint she could barely catch it, but the feel of his lips lingered, tingling her skin.

In all her previous encounters with alphas, she’d been left feeling unfulfilled, disappointed, and sad. But now, tonight, her heart beat with the swiftness of a hummingbird’s wings, joy seemed to take flight, and her omega purred in happiness.

She closed her eyes and breathed against her knuckles, desperate to catch the scent of him. It was so unfair the fashion of this age keeping the males a secret while the females remained wholly on display. Never in all her years had she wanted to know what an alpha smelled like. Not before him.

Colonel Rogers with his sky blue eyes and golden crop of curls. There had been no need to pad the thighs of his breeks. He was a man who cut a dashing figure in his uniform, and Lizzy assumed he would cut one just as impressive out of it.

A deep blush coated her face at such thoughts. They may be guided by their secondary nature, but they did not need to be led around by their base instincts.

“Lizzy, dear. What a flush you are sporting,” Constance giggled, shutting the door behind her as she came to bed.

Practically hatchlings together, she and Constance had shared a room and a nest from the moment of Lizzy’s arrival. The comfort she’d taken after her parents passing had been sorely needed. Though she no longer felt the severe pain she had back then, it was nice to share a nest and was comfortable to have someone to cuddle with.

Omega were tactile creatures. They craved contact, and as both she and Constance were without alphas of their own, they satisfied the need for a cuddle with each other. Occasionally when they had been young, Pepper had joined their nest. Her quiet purr a comforting sound which eased the young, heartbroken Lizzy into sleep when her tears had seemed unending.

“Hush, Constance,” Lizzy grumbled, getting up to help her undress.

“Is it the Colonel who has brought such a rosy blush to your cheeks?” Constance teased, lifting her wings out of Lizzy’s way.

Her blush burned all the hotter.

“I knew it!” Constance crowed. “You must tell me _everything_!”

“There is nothing to tell, Constance!” Lizzy denied, but the way her face went fully scarlet betrayed her in an instant.

Once her dress and petticoat fell to the carpet, Constance spun around and took Lizzy by the arms. She dragged her close and stuck her nose firmly against Lizzy’s throat.

“Constance Stark! Whatever do you think you're about?” Lizzy bellowed.

“You smell of lavender. Why do you smell of lavender?” Constance giggled.

Knowing she would not let it alone, Lizzy gave in to her friend’s nosy nature. “Colonel Rogers was most kind in assisting me to be rid of Lord Davenport’s scent when the alpha… _nuzzled me_ ,” she finished with a shudder.

“Lizzy! No!” Constance gasped, well aware of Lizzy’s disapproval of Lord Davenport. “You simply must tell father! His high handed ways won’t be tolerated!”

She motioned for Constance to turn around and began unlacing her short stays. “The Earl saw he apologized and made it quite clear he wouldn’t tolerate Davenport’s behaviour. Then Davenport said he would be informing Uncle of his intentions to withdraw his suit. I am most relieved.” Lizzy sighed, happy to be rid of him.

“I still think you should inform Father of his lack of propriety. That man has been a menace since your first step into society.”

“I will on the ‘morrow,” she assured Constance, removing her friend's corset and helping with her nightgown. “And what of Lord Barnes?” Lizzy asked, not having had the chance to enquire after the man what with spending a goodly amount of time in the presence of Colonel Rogers.

“Lieutenant Colonel Barnes is as chivalrous as a pig! I will thank you not to bring him up again!”

“You do realize they are staying here?”

“Hmph, I am aware. Still, I refuse to spend time with the man. He's a brute. Rude and unconscionable and just, ugh! I will not be forced to suffer his company!”

“My goodness, Constance! Whatever did he do?” Lizzy asked, climbing into bed and nudging pillows around until she was comfortable.

“He looked right at me when I walked up to him, and after I introduced myself, he had the audacity to ask me to move along. I was _too old_ for him! The nerve of the man!” Constance huffed, punching more pillows before putting out the light.

Lizzy clasped her hand tightly once she found it in the dark. “I’m sorry he was so cruel, Constance.” _Hurt, pain, rejection_ , and _despair_ filled the air and Lizzy’s nose. “You will find a good alpha one day. I know you will.”

She sniffled softly but said no more on the subject. “And you, Lizzy? Do you think, mayhap, you’ve found a good alpha?”

A shiver worked its way down Lizzy’s spine. “I want to know what he smells like,” she whispered, feeling her face flush.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Constance sighed happily, scooting closer. “You’ve never had that before.”

“He’s so… handsome, and strong, and powerful, and his wings were so… so soft.”

“You touched his wings!” Constance squealed, only for Lizzy to shush her.

“Exclaim it to the entire keep! I don’t think the boys in the bailey heard you!”

“Sorry, sorry. But, Lizzy, how daring of you,” Constance giggled.

“They were so soft,” Lizzy sighed. “Like velvet and silk but they were so strong and big, and long. Constance, his primaries where _huge_!”

A snort reverberated in the darkness. “You know what they say about a man’s primaries.”

“Stop it, you hussy!” Lizzy said through muffled laughter.

The two of them giggled for sometime before they fell into companionable silence.

“He asked to call on me and wondered if I’d take a turn around the grounds with him.”

“What did you say?” Constance asked as if she weren’t already aware. 

“Yes,” Lizzy whispered, more heat filling her face. “Will you help me ready tomorrow?”

“Of course I will!” Constance exclaimed. “I will get mother’s help. We are going to make you shine.”

“I’m sure Auntie has better things to do.”

“No, Lizzy. She’d want to be here for this. You’ve found an alpha who holds your interest and for whom you certainly hold his. He had his wing over you all night.”

Constance clutched her hands tighter. “He just being was kind after my ordeal.”

“He was being territorial. Every time anyone even thought of approaching you, his eyes tinged red, and they backed off. He is well on his way to being smitten.”

Silence fell after another round of giggles.

“What if he hates my tenacity?” Lizzy whispered.

“He won’t.”

“But he might.”

“But he won’t.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because, Lizzy dear, I heard him telling Father how much your spirit intrigued him.”

“What! Have you been keeping secrets, Constance?”

“Maybe,” she giggled.

“What do you know?” Lizzy demanded, tickling the ribs of the woman.

“Ah! Stop, stop! I’ll tell.”

“You’d best!” Lizzy warned.

“It seems the Colonel was so taken with you; he informed father quite formally he intends to pursue you, Lizzy darling.”

“Oh… my…” Lizzy whispered.

“Now, the only question is, Lizzy dear, how long will you make him chase you before you submit?”

Lizzy had no answer to give, but the flutter in her heart seemed to speak loud and clear.

_Not long at all._

***

Lizzy, Constance, and Pepper entered the breakfast room together the next morning to find the men already at table.

“Pepper, my love. I was afraid you'd gotten lost,” Tony teased. “But how could I fault a small delay when three such beautiful omegas have come to grace my table.”

“Your notice is appreciated, husband,” Pepper said, gliding forward to smile at the men now on their feet. “Lord Denton, Lord Barnes. I do hope you had a restful sleep and are enjoying your stay in our weyr so far.”

“Quite, my lady.” The Earl offered her a smile and short bow, but his gaze drifted back to Lizzy and made her blush.

“My lords.” Both she and Constance bobbed a swift curtsy before taking their seats.

It was Lizzy's fault for the delay. She'd changed her morning dress twice, uncertain in which to choose before settling on the light linen dress in white with a small checked pattern on the bodice in blue. The sleeves were long with buttons at the cuffs, while a dainty bow tied her waist-defining ribbon just below her breasts and beneath her wings. The back draped low to allow free access to the feathered appendages, while a second, smaller strap buttoned above to keep the shoulders of her dress from slipping out of place. Lace gloves adorned her hands, and she'd had Constance assist her with her mother's locket that morning, feeling rather nostalgic. Usually, a strand of pearls or small amethyst graced her decolletage, but the gleam of gold from within her jewelry box had called to mind the colour of the Colonel’s magnificent wings.

“Elizabeth, dear, I noticed your roses are blooming quiet magnificently this morning. You and Constance should take the Colonel and the Lieutenant on a tour of the grounds,” Pepper said while selecting her choice of meat from the servant’s offered dish as their breakfast got underway.

“We have business to attend to this morning,” Tony countered.

“You can attend to your business later,” Pepper handily overrode him, gently sliding her hand down his arm. “How often will we be able to appreciate a morning like this in the countryside? It is gorgeous, my alpha, and I had thought you might fly out with me. But if you're not interested...” She let the words trail off and shrugged.

Lizzy bit her lip when Tony’s head jerked up. Her uncle quite loved to fly out with her aunt, though the woman with the fiery red wings didn't often make the offer. Pepper was a busy woman, overseeing not only this estate but the others the Starks had acquired. While Lizzy had a fine steward who visited her once per month to go over the Heartright accounts, Pepper had multiple stewards, tenants, and lands to manage, but between herself and Jarvis, the Starks majordomo and a wonderful Beta, they kept everything running tip top, allowing Tony the ability to invent and create as he loved without the distraction inherent in running an estate.

The fact Pepper was taking time out of her schedule to distract Uncle Stark simply made Lizzy love her all the more.

“Perhaps a short delay wouldn't be too inconvenient to the Colonel?” Tony looked at the Earl of Denton.

“On the contrary. A walk among the roses would do us both good, eh, Barnes?”

The brooding, dark Lieutenant hummed his agreement. “As you say, Rogers.”

“Excellent!” Tony dug into his breakfast with gusto.

“Father? Did Lord Davenport withdraw his pursuit of Lizzy?” Constance asked as she helped herself to the toast.

“He did.” Tony frowned. “Do not tell me you-"

“Good god, no!” she huffed in disgust. “He made an inappropriate advance toward Elizabeth last night. Quite rough. I would hate to think what might have occurred if not for Lord Denton’s timely intervention.” Constance beamed at him.

“It was my honour to assist, Lady Heartright.” The Colonel nodded his head. “Alphas of that nature should be severely reprimanded.”

“And what is your take on ones who are simply _rude_?” Constance asked, smiling sickeningly sweetly at Lord Barnes.

Lizzy kicked her in the shin. “Why don't you have some tea, Constance?”

“Excuse me?” Tony’s growl was a low, deadly rumble followed by a rise and flare of his wings which sent the poor landed servants scurrying to back away from the table. “Davenport touched you inappropriately, and you didn't think to inform me at once?”

Her wings clamped down tight in distress at his anger. “It… it was nothing, Uncle. A bully move I had already extracted myself from, and then with the Earl’s assistance I was freed of Davenport’s suit.” 

He instantly relaxed his wings. “Lizzy, darling, you should have told me,” he scolded gently.

“I was just happy he was gone, ” she whispered, her appetite all but vanished beneath the weight of Tony’s displeasure.

Warmth reached out to her from across the table, a strong brush of _Will_ which didn't come from her Uncle but the man seated opposite her.

“Your niece was quite strict with him. I was… most impressed with Lady Heartright’s resistance against such a strong alpha.” The Colonel said as he adjusted his wings to keep them out of the way of the server with the tray of meats who'd worked up the courage to return to the table.

“Her mother was a wonderful strong beta and dear friend,” Pepper murmured, gently petting Lizzy’s arm in a soothing gesture before nudging the bowl of preserves her direction. “Amanda's loss was difficult, but she and Robert both raised our Lizzy to speak her mind and make her own way.”

Lizzy blushed beneath the praise and appreciative glance of the Colonel. “I found him… off-putting,” she said. “It was not difficult to deny someone so…” she was at a loss for the right word.

“Wrong?” Lord Barnes supplied.

“Yes,” she agreed, darting a hesitant glance his way.

He smiled, and it was… charming, disconcerting Lizzy all the more after Constance’s evening revelation.

“Some people simply do not fit,” he continued to say, turning his blue-grey gaze to Constance.

“Some people need to learn when an introduction is nothing more than that,” muttered Constance.

Barnes only snorted as he filled his plate.

“You’ll have to forgive Lord Barnes,” the Colonel said to Constance with a kind, teasing smile. “He’s not fit for polite company, or most company, these days.”

Barnes only grunted and ignored the Colonel.

A flicker of understanding and compassion filled Lizzy. A man who’d gone through what he had, an experience she could only imagine, would likely find it difficult to fit in and return to their occasionally frivolous society. His eyes darted her way, surprise evident before he looked back to his plate and ate without further comment.

***

Lizzy kept her pace slow, conscious of the cane and the limp of the man beside her. Her straw bonnet kept the sun off her skin while a light shawl hung from her elbows. The fringe floated in the breeze when she reached out and touched the head of a blooming rose.

“Are flowers a passion of yours, Lady Heartright?”

She looked up at the Colonel with a smile. “Roses are a hobby. They can be so finicky. I enjoy the challenge of them.”

“You could likely teach my gardener a thing or two. I’m afraid my grounds look less like a fairy’s enchanted bower and more like a trolls wasteland.”

She chuckled softly and took his arm when he offered it. “Ours is a wonderful landed. He taught me so much of plants and making them grow.”

His brow arched in surprise. “You learned from a landed?”

Lizzy blushed, knowing how many felt about those without wings. “They are… such a hardy folk and Brampton was very knowledgeable. He was elderly, and when I was younger, I enjoyed assisting him.”

He tugged her to a stop and leaned heavily on his cane. “I find it admirable your befriending of a landed. They are good people, kind and quite caring of their own. My lands are host to a large village of landed people whom I care deeply for.”

“Really?” Lizzy gasped. “That’s wonderful! I adore going to the landed village. Uncle Stark has always been so willing to listen to them, and they are treated, well, perhaps not as equals but not as the lowbrow common peasants people like Martha Winthrop and Lord Davenport see them as.” She swiftly brought her fingers to her lips. “Oh… forgive me. That was rather… um, opinionated.”

“I find I quite like your opinions, Lady Heartright.” The Colonel smiled and led them toward a bench where he could sit for a moment. “I too, view the landed as beneficial to our society and make the effort to visit when I can to assure myself they have what is needed.”

Lizzy settled at his side and curled her hands in her lap. He cut as dashing a figure today as he had the previous evening, though now he appeared more the country gentleman than the Colonel. His waistcoat was a beautiful deep blue, his shirt and cravat a blinding white, while his vest was a lovely brocade in blue and black. Again he wore breeks and boots with the addition of a tall hat. He looked the part of an Earl today, and quite set her heart aflutter.

Returning her attention to the roses, hoping she wasn’t giving away her thoughts by her scent, Lizzy said, “There’s a woman in the landed village whose name is Rosalee. She makes the most beautiful tapestries.”

“Perhaps another day you could show me?”

Her eyes snapped back to the Colonels. They were filled with kindness and sweet affection, and an admiration which made her blush. “If… if the weather holds… and Uncle Stark approves, I would like that… very much.”

He nodded, and his smile matched his eyes. “Tell me, my lady, what other things besides roses hold your interest?”

“Oh, well…” She bit her lip and fidgeted with her fingers. “There’s the usual, I suppose. Whist and music. I’m afraid I’m absolute rubbish when it comes to needlepoint or things of that nature. I… like to sing, and I do enjoy a dance.” She cast a glance to his leg.

“But what is your passion, fair lady?” he asked, gently cupping her chin and turning her face up to his.

He’d swept his hat from his head, and Lizzy was filled with the desire to sink her fingers into his golden curls. He shifted closer, and the edge of his wing lightly caressed hers, causing Lizzy to shiver as a curl of heat stoked low in her abdomen. The blue of his eyes brightened, his nostrils flared, and she knew he could smell her interest.

His wings lifted, surrounded them in a cocoon of golden feathers, muffling the outside world and keeping their voices from travelling. Both Constance and the Lieutenant were playing chaperone, but neither seemed overly concerned about doing a proper job, so Lizzy found herself alone, seated among the roses and surrounded in gold.

“Tell me… my lady,” he crooned, the sound coaxing. The hand holding her chin shifted to loosen the tie of her bonnet and allow it to tumble down her back before he ever so gently cupped her cheek. “What is the passion you hide from all your suitors?”

His touch lit a fire under her skin, and Lizzy’s eyes closed on a delicate sigh. “Books, my lord. I like to read, and my education is… vast.”

“I knew it,” he breathed, and the breath washed over her lips.

Lizzy opened her eyes to find his mouth but an inch from her own. “Colonel…”

“My lady?”

“When I look at you I… feel certain of something. I’ve never… never felt like this with an alpha before.”

His mouth quirked up into a smile. “Perhaps you were simply waiting for the right alpha.”

“Are you certain that alpha is you?” she asked, shocking herself with her audacity.

He only chuckled. “Oh, yes, my sweet dove, I know it's me.”

“You sound very assured,” she whispered, her gaze locked on the rather full lips so close to her own.

His fingers rested lightly on the sensitive gland beneath her jaw, but where Davenport’s touch had felt distressing, she almost wished the Colonel would move, stroke her skin with his work-roughened hands. They felt big and warm and teased her flesh in the most pleasing way. His wings closed further around them, brushing over hers and making her shiver at the delightful feeling.

How she longed to rip the cravat from his throat, lean forward and drag her nose up his neck, she ached to know what he smelled like. 

“I am assured.” His hand slipped around her spine to pull her closer until Lizzy’s thigh pressed the length of his.

She gave a rather wanton moan. It set her cheeks burning with embarrassment, and her hands came up to press to his chest. “I don’t quite know what’s come over me,” she said softly.

“Yes, you do.” His hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck, sliding along her skin like she’d wished. He cupped the base of her skull, and Lizzy’s lips parted on a soft sigh. He was big and strong and commanding. His alpha hummed against her omega, coaxing and soft. His wings shimmered in the sun, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. “You know me, sweet omega. Say it. Say what rests on the tip of your tongue.”

“Colonel…”

He growled, and the sound quaked through her body. “No, darling. Not that one.”

He seemed to tower over her even though he was seated, his presence commanding, and Lizzy felt herself soften, relaxing into his body as her hands crept up to find his broad shoulders. He was correct in how the word seemed to rest on the tip of her tongue, tingle there with the desire to be spoken, and finally tumbled forth on another quiet sigh. “Alpha…”

“That’s right, sweet omega,” he whispered and took her lips in a gentle, soft, beautiful kiss.

Lizzy whimpered as she gave herself to the warmth and tenderness of his mouth. Her wings relaxed, sliding down her spine and spreading out submissively. When he broke the sweet kiss, he did so only to press his cheek to hers, rub gently, and drop his nose down to bury beneath her ear. This, in turn, brought his throat close enough for her to bury her nose beneath his and finally inhale the scent she’d longed for.

It hit her like a slap to the face. She growled happily as she reached up, grabbed his collars, and tugged them down. Her tongue was sliding over his skin before she’d even thought to do so, causing him to growl and nip sharply at her throat.

“Omega,” he purred when she moaned. “My omega.”

“My alpha,” she sighed. Her body had lit up with that first delectable breath of his scent. Her breasts burned and tingled, her belly was full of butterflies, and the slick between her thighs was undeniable. It was like the start of a heat cycle, only she was too early, and her temperature hadn’t spiked.

“You smell delicious, Elizabeth,” he sighed, lifting her closer to seat her on his uninjured thigh.

“Colonel,” she whimpered when his mouth caressed the length of her throat, and his tongue bathed a path between her breasts. Hearing her name roll from his lips had her squeezing her thighs together.  

“Steven or Steve, sweet omega. Say you’ll be mine and use my name.”

It was a command quietly worded as a request, but Lizzy’s head was too full of his scent, the pheromones seeping through his clothing becoming trapped by the cage of his wings to create a cloud of mind-fogging arousal. “Yes, yes, Steven,” she said and dived back into his mouth.

The second kiss was nowhere near soft or sweet. It was passionate and wild, a mating of lips and clashing of mouths. When he opened his lips, and his tongue swept the seam of hers, Lizzy let him in without hesitation and found her tongue tangled up with the wild, Warlord Alpha’s in a dance she couldn’t hope to win. In her excitement, she didn’t realize she’d thrust her hands into his hair until the silky strands tangled and she pulled against the knot.

He growled but not in warning. The sound was all pleasure and Lizzy did it again, gave his locks another testing tug. A purr rumbled from him, deep and wild and she gasped in excited pleasure. She bit his lip gently and earned another, sucked on his tongue and had his hand fall to clamp on her bottom.

“Elizabeth, pretty omega,” he groaned. “You must stop, darling or I will not be able to keep from mating you here and now.”

She lifted her head reluctantly only to find Steve’s blue eyes had turned fully red. The alpha was straining with everything he was to hold back, and she swiftly ducked her chin, baring her throat as she jerked her hands from his hair.

He settled her back to the stone bench at his side and quickly caught her face between his palms while he loosened the cage his wings had become, letting a bit of breeze refresh the air around them. “You need never be afraid of me, Elizabeth. I would never hurt you.”

“Everyone speaks of the volatility of Warlord Alphas,” she said, finding his eyes had returned to blue.

“With good reason. Both Barnes and I have been known to do… rather temperamental things at times. We walk that razor’s edge, Bucky more so than myself, but it serves us well. I would not have been able to get Bucky, and my men back had I not been able to rise to the edge and tap into that other part of me. Bucky would not have survived his captivity without it. But you, sweet Elizabeth, have nothing to fear from me. Not even in my rut would I injure you.”

It was common knowledge Warlords had a harder time during their rut. It usually lasted a day or two longer and had a higher chance of turning violent if they were approached incorrectly.

While Lizzy may have had a fleeting moment of trepidation on the terrace the previous evening, she had swiftly found herself at ease with the large alpha. He was so incredibly kind. He was soft and gentle with her. She felt as if she could sink into his _Will_ and simply wrap herself in it.

“I have… a habit of being rather outspoken,” she said quietly.

“No?” he gasped. “I never would have guessed.”

She chuckled softly. “That was very cheeky.” He simply grinned and gave an unrepentant shrug. “What I was trying to say, Colonel is while we may be true mates, you have to know I won’t be some meek, fluttering female only good for producing hatchlings. I have yet to accept an alpha because most find my ideals… untenable.”

“And you think I have waited this long to find my mate because I want a featherbrained female who has no mind and couldn’t hold a conversation to save her life?” He tsked softly and tilted his head. “You don’t yet know me, fair Elizabeth, but I can assure you that is the last thing I desire.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked bluntly.

He let his wings uncurl, taking his scent with him as he stood and held out his hand. “Nothing more than what you have to offer, Lady Heartright. An omega with tenacity, an active mind, and a sweet demeanour.”

She smirked a little grin. “I’m not always sweet.”

He assisted her to her feet but didn’t move away, continuing to crowd her against the bench as he lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I am well aware of the passionate Queen you can become, my lady. I assure you, I look forward to seeing her again as well.”

His lips were quite warm and caused an all-new flutter to form in her belly. “As do I, my lord,” she teased, maneuvering around him and returning her bonnet to her head.

A growl rippled behind her, but Lizzy only glanced over her shoulder at him. “Coming… _alpha_?” The flash of red to his eyes and lift of his wings made her smile. She’d seen Pepper use the same sentence on Tony and it always ended the same way. With one or the other slamming their bedroom door shut. To see the same type of desire reflected in the Colonel’s eyes gave her a thrill as she sauntered on down the trail.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smexy and feels

## Chapter Three

* * *

Constance smiled smugly at Lizzy when she and the Colonel rejoined their friends. The redhead was quick to seize Lizzy’s arm and drag her off for a stroll around the pond, giggling and teasing quietly about how she smelled of pine and warm musk and asking just what had Lizzy been up to among the hedge roses with the clearly smitten alpha.

Lizzy could only blush, unwilling to describe the sweet, final moment among the flowers when Steven had taken her in his arms and kissed her breathless. Their wings touching in an intimate embrace. How his hands had held her so very tightly but had been so gentle when the tips had trailed down the bare skin between her wings and made her shiver. He’d marked her with his scent, a clear claim to any with the nose to smell it by repeating the same action as Davenport, but with a much more pleasing outcome.

She’d clung to him when his lips and teeth had worshiped her skin as if there was no greater taste to be had than that of her flesh. The soft growls and rumbles of pleasure from his throat had set her sighing and quaking, willing to do anything he asked as long as he never stopped touching her.

Unfortunately, he had to stop, take a step back, and regain the composure he’d lost as well as clear his nose of the scent of her arousal. But the way he’d looked at her, a male starving for one more kiss, one more touch, had prompted a shiver of _want_ to streak her spine.

No, Lizzy would not make him chase her for long. Not long at all.

Pepper and Tony landed shortly thereafter. The woman Lizzy considered her surrogate mother gave a knowing smile, while her Uncle shot a glare at the man who’d so thoroughly saturated her in his scent.

“A chaperone is meant to keep an eye on things, Constance,” he grumbled, turning the glare on his daughter.

“Oh, hush, Tony,” Pepper scolded. “If the Colonel isn’t Lizzy’s one, I will eat your hat.”

“If you’re hungry, darling, there is food in the house. No need to eat felt,” he quipped as he stepped forward and collected Lizzy’s hand to his arm. “Elizabeth and I are going to take a walk and have a private discussion.”

Pepper rolled her eyes while Constance sighed, and Lizzy glanced back in time to see Steve’s demeanour change to one of wings lifted in warning. His fists clenched as her Uncle led her away. Lord Barnes wrapped his hand around Steve’s wrist, a single point of contact to keep him calm. It appeared to be working.

“Uncle?” Lizzy asked softly once they were away from the others.

“Your father left me a letter with his will, you know,” he said, gazing into the distance.

“You never told me that,” Lizzy murmured.

“He bid me watch over you as if you were my own hatchling, and I think, for the most part, I have.”

“You’ve done an excellent job,” she agreed, tilting her head to his shoulder and finding comfort in the wrap of his wing around her smaller frame. The gentle brush of his _Will_ was a warmth she fell into easily, and she tightened the hold she had on his arm. “I love you, Uncle Tony.”

He chuckled softly, leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I feel for you no different than I do Constance, Lizzy. I only want what’s best for you. Are you sure a Warlord Alpha is it?”

“Aunt Pepper is correct. He’s my alpha. His scent is… what I’ve waited for, for so long.”

“After eleven years of your stubbornness and strong opinion, I won’t bother to ask if you’re certain. I know you know your own mind, Elizabeth. He informed me quite formally he would be courting you. I can see now why he felt the need.” Tony came to a stop and turned, his wings thoroughly blocking them from view. “You lead from here, omega at your pace and in your time. You can wed if you choose, or take him as mate first. Either is acceptable.”

She flushed red, embarrassed by his candour but pleased at his acceptance and support. “Thank you, Uncle, but I think… a little more time to get to know one another would be best.”

He cupped her face and tilted it up. “He is your alpha and a Warlord one at that. His instincts will be strong with you, Lizzy. Be careful around other males. I will have Jarvis inform your callers that you are entertaining a mating offer and will no longer be receiving them but Constance will.”

“I will be careful,” she promised. The last thing they needed was an overzealous suitor turning his attention to her when she was finalizing her agreement with the Colonel. Such a thing could end with blood on the floor, and no one wanted that.

“Excellent. We will see you and the Colonel are given adequate time together while he remains in residence.” Tony’s wings swept back, revealing the two of them to the onlookers.

When Lizzy looked up, her gaze connected with Steve who had slipped away from the others to stand alone a few feet apart, he lifted his chin and straightened to his full height. His _Will_ flowed forth; his shoulders appeared to grow wider as he took in a breath and let his wings unfurl behind him. The mass of golden feathers seemed to stretch on forever, and Lizzy gave a quiet little growl at the enticement.

Tony chuckled softly, though his scent carried notes of happy, sad, sentimental in it.

Lizzy squeezed his forearm before he could move, pulling his attention back down to her. “Thank you, Uncle Tony. For everything. For eleven years you’ve kept me safe and treated me with kindness and love. I could never have asked for a better alpha after my father’s passing. You and Aunt Pepper have been the pair I wish to fashion my mating after. You’ve set a very strong example.” Moisture dampened his eyes as she lifted up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

Clearing his throat, Tony escorted her over to the Colonel. “It appears, Colonel, that my niece is inclined toward your company. Your formal offer of courtship is accepted.” Removing Lizzy’s hand from his arm, Tony offered it to Steve. “What happens from here is at the Queen’s discretion.”

It was a warning from the alpha who considered himself her father to the one who sought to steal her away. Tony would not let Steve push Lizzy into anything she was not ready for. Steve would wait for her to give her consent before anything further happened.

The reality of things was, if the Colonel so wished it, there was nothing her Uncle could do to stop him. Steve’s _Will_ as a Warlord Alpha would far outweigh anything Tony could produce, and if he wanted to, he could just take Lizzy as his own at any time. But this was a sign of respect between the two alphas and for her as his potential mate. It would be dishonourable of the Colonel if he disagreed or broke his word once given.

“My Queen,” Steve murmured as he lifted her knuckles to his lips, an action which caused flutters to form in her belly every time. “I await your pleasure.” A tint of red highlighted his eyes. “I ask only that you do not attend another male who is not of this weyr alone. If you should need to be in the presence of others, it is with me at your elbow or Lord Barnes at your back.”

“I am agreeable to that, my lord,” Lizzy sighed and smiled when Steve did.

“Good, great, all done.” Tony clapped his hands together. “Now, Rogers, let’s collect Barnes and get some work done.”

“Tony!” Pepper huffed. “You can wait till after luncheon!”

“Oh… that’s,” Lizzy blushed and looked up at Steve. “We can, we can… later.”

“There, see? All settled.” Tony turned on his heel and leapt into the air, winging his way back toward the house.

Steve rumbled out a soft growl of irritation before his wings snapped around Lizzy, drawing her in and hiding them both from the watchful eyes of her family. “I would rather be spending my time with you, omega.” His hands walked the curves of her waist and hips, touching and claiming as he pulled her in tight to his chest. “Would that I could wallow in your scent, in your touch, in your warmth. I would drown in it. Bury myself in this lush fragrance. How sweet you smell. How delectable,” he whispered as he nudged and nuzzled his nose over her throat and chest.

His arousal was evident in the press of his hardness against her belly, and Lizzy clutched at his coat when his scent saturated her nose with the fragrance of pine and warm musk. Emotions clouded the air, everything from _happy, need_ , and _nerves_ flowed around them both. Both eager to learn and explore the other but lacking the time.

Lizzy extended her wrist and dragged her bare skin over the shoulder of his jacket, leaving behind a clear scent mark. Another deep rumble, one of granite and stone sliding together came from his chest when Steve’s teeth gently scraped the skin of her throat. His hands skimmed her ribcage and up to stroke through the soft, downy feathers on the underside of her wings where they joined her back.

A sigh of quiet pleasure escaped Lizzy’s lips. “Steven,” she moaned.

“Say it again,” he whispered in her ear.

“Steven,” she said with a sigh. “My alpha.”

“Precious omega. How sweet you sound.” He tucked his nose into her throat and inhaled deeply. “To tide me over until we can next be together.” Then, he took her mouth in a kiss which saw her melting into him, her body limp and pliant, her wings relaxing until they lay on the ground around their feet.

When he finally broke the kiss, it was to rest his forehead on hers for but a moment before he stepped back, swept his wings up and leapt away with Barnes hot on his primaries. There had been a look of pain on his face and _unhappiness_ had washed against her omega with his leaving.

Pepper fluttered closer and took Lizzy’s hands as she watched the golden alpha fly away. “Oh, darling…” she sighed and smiled. “How wonderful for you.”

“A magnificent alpha,” Constance agreed.

Lizzy looked at her friend, and though her smile was bright, there was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. She took Constance’s hand and squeezed it tightly, offering what comfort she could without saying a word.

“Come, Elizabeth,” Pepper coaxed, “There are things to discuss and preparations to be made. We’ll use your library for your private conversations with the Colonel.”

***

Lizzy waited nervously, her fingers twisted together in her lap, for her afternoon appointment with the Colonel. There was a fragrant pot of tea sitting on the rolling tray to her right, small finger sandwiches and petit confectionaries on fancy plates just waiting to be tasted. If her stomach wasn’t rolling with twelve different kinds of butterflies, she would have already filtched one of the lemon squares.

The men had missed luncheon, not surprising when it came to her Uncle. He often forgot to eat when he was inventing, but that his guests had also failed to appear had been disheartening and had caused Lizzy’s nerves to spiral rapidly out of control.

She’d tried reading, but her mind was too full of blue eyes and golden feathers and had given up within minutes when the book had fallen from her lap for the second time. Now, she sat on her favourite settee and watched the clouds through the big picture window float across the sky.

When the door opened and closed, she glanced up and blushed as she drew a wing forward and around to fidget with her feathers. “Colonel,” she said quietly.

“What happened to Steven, omega?” he asked, his smile gentle as he crossed the room and slowly removed his jacket.

“You missed luncheon,” she murmured and looked away. “Can I offer you tea or something to eat? You must certainly be hungry.”

“Elizabeth?” he frowned and inhaled deeply. The smile returned as he set his jacket on the arm of the sofa, but instead of sitting at her side, he knelt to the floor at her feet. “Sweet omega, there’s no need to be nervous.”

The comforting brush of warm _Will_ washed over her like a heavy blanket, surrounding her in reassurance. Lizzy closed her eyes, all the muscles in her body relaxing under his care. A warm hand touched her cheek. Tender fingers traced the curve and down along her jaw to cup her chin. Then, soft lips pressed against hers and Lizzy sighed into his mouth. The kiss stayed gentle, nothing more than a simple brush of lips until Lizzy’s wings relaxed, then Steve lifted his head.

“Ah, there’s my Queen.” He smiled widely and skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “Better?” She gave a small nod. “And what had you so nervous, my darling Lizzy?”

“Aunt Pepper was rather… um… descriptive about… about what to expect, and I’m…” she trailed off, wondering if her face was as red as it felt.

He growled softly, the sound full of annoyance before both his hands came up to hold her warm face. “Omega,” he purred, and the rumble of it seemed to vibrate through her body.

“Yes, alpha?” she whispered, her fingers tangling together again in her lap.

“From now on, if you have questions regarding what is expected of our time together, you will ask me.”

Lizzy lifted her gaze to his and found red tinting his eyes. “Are you upset with her?”

His hands shifted to her shoulders and out to lightly stroke the edge of her wing. “No, sweet omega. Not upset. But how we proceed from here, including what… liberties you wish to extend me are for you and I to decide, not for your aunt to pressure you into.”

“Oh! I did not mean to imply she had spoken out of turn.” Lizzy shook her head, never wanting him to think poorly of Pepper. “It is just… female things.” She ducked her chin. “Things my mother would have… educated me about and it… I… she…”

***

Steve chuckled softly and returned to his feet to step toward the tea service. “I see. Tea?” he asked, but Lizzy’s eyes had been caught by the sweep of golden feathers hanging down his back.

Steve’s smile went unnoticed as he flicked his wings backward, pretending to shake them out and brushed the tips of his primaries against her shin. Her hand reached out, then pulled back as if she feared she’d be scolded if she gave into temptation. But he wanted her to touch him whenever she wished and sent out a gentle, coaxing brush of _Will_ to encourage her to do so.

Again her hand lifted, drifted forward as if in a trance, and gloveless fingers skimmed his feathers. The touch of her hand was just as potent as the first time, and he had to dig deep to contain himself.

Her emotions hummed against his alpha, soft ones of _intrigue, attraction_ , and just the barest hint of _desire_. His nose was full of her sweet scent; a scent made all the stronger because of their location.

The library full of books was heavily saturated with her beautiful aroma. It filled his head, making it difficult to think beyond returning his mouth to her soft skin, but he held it together and poured the tea.

“Tea?” he purred a second time, smiling over his shoulder at her.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you,” she murmured, slowly pulling her hand from his feathers. “Clearly, you’re not superstitious.”

“Sugar?”

“Lemon,” she sighed, continuing to gaze at his wings.

Steve added a slice of citrus, turned, and handed her the delicate saucer and cup. “Why do you say that?” She smiled and shifted toward him when he seated himself on her settee, shaking his wings out, so they flowed off the edge of the seat behind him.

“There is an old wives tale that if someone besides the hostess of a house pours the tea, then the hostess will find herself in need of a nest for her forthcoming hatchling.” She sipped her tea and eyed him over the rim.

The idea of bedding his sweet omega to plant said hatchling had Steve’s alpha surging so strongly his wings rippled, and he had to catch himself before he snapped the cup in his hand. “I am afraid I was not familiar with such a thing,” he murmured.

“I assumed. Will you tell me about yourself, Colonel?” she asked, finally relaxing.

“Steve,” he rumbled. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything,” she chuckled. “Tell me about you. Your lands, your hobbies. What do you do when you’re not flying off to save the world.”

Steve set his tea down on the table situated at the back of the settee. “My lands are not so different from these, though my weyr is… slightly larger. Three betas stay with us, Barnes and I. A few omegas for whom we offer protection. Barnes raises dogs, hounds really, sleek ones who can run and keep up with us over long flights. And I’ve already told you of my landed and the terrible state of my garden,” he chuckled softly.

“If the Lieutenant raises dogs as his hobby, what do you do… Steven?”

She looked at him with her earnest grey eyes, and his heart melted. “I paint,” he said softly.

“Really?” Her eyes widened and sparkled, and she sat forward, her cup joining his. “What kind? Oils? Watercolours?”

“Both.” Her lack of scorn shouldn’t have surprised him, but when she jumped up excitedly and rushed across the room to leap a few rungs up a well-used ladder and pluck a hefty book from a high shelf, he found himself intrigued.

She stepped nimbly off the ladder, her wings sweeping up to steady her as she floated like a feather to the floor. It was an action she was confident in, for she did it without looking and without knocking anything over, returning to him with the book held tight to her chest. “While I’m no William Blake, and I cannot needlepoint to save my life, I do… dabble a bit in watercolours.”

It was then Steve realized her book was a leather-wrapped journal, loose pages sticking out at the top, and tied with a leather thong. “Might I see them?” he asked, curious to access her skill.

She clutched the book all the tighter. “They’re just… just nothing special.”

_Uncertainty_ filled his nose. Steve stood slowly when she paused a few feet away, appearing to rethink her offer to share her talents. “I would love to see them, little dove if you are inclined to share.”

Again he sent his _Will_ to coax her to his purpose. It mattered not if she drew stick people or had a horrible eye for colour. They shared an interest, and he would see it nurtured.

She bit her lip, an action he wished to mimic, and slowly held out the book. When he took it from her, she was quick to turn away, her hands closing over her elbows as she paced over to stare out the window.

Even at a distance, he could hear her heart pound. Needing to reassure her, his alpha practically howling at him to go after his upset omega, Steve swiftly unwrapped the journal and flipped open the cover only to freeze.

They were stunning, and he flipped through the thicker pages, staring in awe at her abilities. Exquisite, some appearing as nothing more than a wash of muted colours over the page, entire landscapes were done in a monotone of colour like a drizzly English spring, grey and dreary, while others were vibrant, detailed, and as colourful as a rainbow. He couldn’t believe she kept them hidden away in her library like something to be ashamed of.

Steve set the book down and made his way over to where she stood, tense and waiting. When he stepped into her spine, he slipped his arms beneath her wings and around her waist, so she didn’t feel trapped, but also couldn’t escape when he brought his mouth to her scent gland and licked it slowly. “You are a very talented artist, Elizabeth. You should share it, not hide it away.”

“It’s… it’s only a hobby,” she whispered.

“It is a beautiful hobby,” he crooned and nuzzled against her ear. “May I have one?”

“Which… which one?” she sighed, tilting her head for him.

It was an inherently submissive act which had Steve releasing a quiet purr as he lapped at her throat. “The one with the boat and the cliffs. It is stunning. You can nearly hear the wind blow.”

“If… if you want it.” Her hands landed lightly on his. “Alpha,” she whispered.

The word drove a spike through his loins, and he rumbled a continual purr. It wasn’t the same as a house cat, more a deep growl, a tumbling sound of boulders and granite rolling together. “Tell me, omega. What do you need?”

Her scent was spiking as it had earlier in the garden, filling with _need, desire, want._ She smelled like her roses with the tiniest hint of paper and ink, as if the scent of her library had soaked into her very essence as she had saturated every inch of her sacred space. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever smelled and couldn’t seem to get enough of it now that he’d had it fill his nose. Mixed with the rising scent of her arousal, Steve could feel himself salivate.

“I… I don’t know,” she whimpered, panting softly.

He drew his arms away slowly, letting his palms graze her sides and trace up her spine to the skin laid bare between her wings. The soft down tickled his fingers and shimmered with the same iridescence as the underside of her feathers. Her skin was like silk, softer than the down of her feathers. So smooth beneath his fingertips he had to stroke it twice. “Have I told you how beautiful I think your wings are?” he murmured, not expecting an answer and continued when one wasn’t forthcoming. “I saw you first across the room last night because of them. They are such a pure white, like the clouds floating outside this window, or the petals of one of your fragrant roses. They drew my eye to you, my stunning dove, and I felt my breath catch. You were exquisite, and nothing would have stopped me finding and speaking with you. Then, to find you in such a precarious state,” a quiet growl escaped him, and he clenched his fist to contain his anger at an alpha, any alpha, harassing his omega, “ _enraged_ me. But even then, my first thought was, “I wonder if she’d let me paint her?” I’m not even sure I can reproduce the rainbow shimmering on the inside of your wings, but I would love to try, sweet omega.”

He’d bent as he spoke, seducing her with words and gentle pets, tender touches to the down and small feathers at the base of her wings until his breath caused the down to ruffle right before he pressed his lips to her spine.

The sound this produced was something between a moan and growl. Her hand snapped up to hold onto the edge of the window when she shook from the onslaught of sensation rushing through her body, causing her scent to blossom like a flower. Her wings spread open, and the glory of her silver tipped primaries dragged along the floor as they stretched to their full extent.

She didn’t lift them from the ground, just presented them for him in another act of quiet submission. Done without fear, without hesitation, Steve was stunned by the trust she showed him, the ease with which she gave of her affections, and gave his back in kind.

He sank his fingers into her feathers slowly, gently, letting them thread through so the pleasure she would feel at the touch would stretch on and on. At the same time, he curled his wings forward until they matched hers curve for curve, and feather for feather in a sensual, seductive caress.

“Steven,” she moaned.

He closed his eyes, wallowing in her scent, soaking in it until he felt as if it was all he could breathe. He pressed another kiss to the space between her wings, and another, and another, travelling up the length of her spine until the button tie of her dress got in his way. He nipped it with his teeth, but before he could ask, she was already reaching up to release the button.

Her dress slipped down her shoulders, but she caught it at her breasts, keeping it up as she looked at him over her shoulder. Her demeanour said shy, but the Queen he’d met earlier lived in her eyes.

“I would touch you more, Elizabeth,” he murmured and scraped his teeth carefully over her shoulder. His canines had already grown long and sharpened to the point he had to be careful not to cut his tongue. One day soon he would sink them into her throat, claim her as his omega as his alpha had been fighting him to do since the first breath of her sweet scent. But, for now, he used them as a gentle enticement. A way to call to her base instincts.

“How would you touch me, alpha?”

The rumble of his purr grew louder with her seductive look, coy smile, and sweet voice. “Everywhere.” He pressed an opened mouth kiss on her shoulder. “Anywhere.” Another kiss to the sleek arch of her neck. “Wherever you will let me,” he breathed against her ear and laid his wings heavily over hers.

Her knees wobbled, and Steve swiftly wrapped an arm around her, trapping one of her wings in the action. She stiffened, but he soothed her with a strong rumble, one which vibrated against her spine when he drew her tight to his chest. “Easy, sweet omega.”

“I don’t like having my wings pinned, Steven.” She sent him another glance over her shoulder, this one full of pique and was rather withering.

“You are not pinned, Elizabeth. You appeared about to fall, something I would never allow if I could prevent it.” He knew his little omega would be touchy about having her wings trapped. It had once been common practice to chain and tie an omega so they could not fly away. This, through the ages, had bred the fear into them, one some alphas, like Davenport Steve suspected who’d tried to trap her against the balcony railing, still played on.

“I’m asking you to release me, Colonel.”

_Panic_ had begun to seep into her scent, and Steve wrapped her in his _Will_. “And I am asking you to trust me, omega. I would never cage you.” He held her gently, remained calm, and continued to soothe her with his rumbly purr and the weight of his approval until her tight muscles loosened.

“Good,” he praised and licked her scent gland before releasing her from his hold and freeing her wing, only to lift his hand to trace the pads of his fingers over her chest and cup her chin. “I think we should move this back to your settee, Elizabeth.”

“I think…” Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off when Steve bit down on her throat.

“Yes?” he whispered in her ear.

“I think…” He did it again and made her gasp.

“What?” he asked, careful to keep the smile out of his voice.

She growled in frustration and shoved him back with her wings so she could turn and face him. Her hand landed on his chest, gave him another shove he willingly retreated before, and eventually found himself running out of room when his calves hit the seat.

“You, sir, are a cad and a flirt!” she huffed.

“Are you complaining, Lizzy darling?” he asked as he spread his wings out and sat, bringing her down with him. He nearly growled when she straddled his lap, a most forward position, but it afforded her the ability to sink her fingers in his cravat and pull it free.

“I will only complain if you do not kiss me again, Colonel Rogers,” she quipped most cheekily and smiled like the Queen she was. His were not the only instincts affected as two sharp fangs indented her bottom lip, and her eyes had become thunderclouds of dark, dangerous grey.

Steve snapped his wings around them, creating a cocoon of golden feathers and muted light when he dragged her closer and shifted slightly to lay back into the corner with its heap of pillows. Clearly, it was a favoured little nest of hers for it was quite comfortable.

Now, with her pressed fully to his chest and her deft fingers thoroughly messing his cravat, Steve loosened the hold he kept on his Alpha. There was a surge in his blood, a lightning whip of sensation which seared him and made him groan when he reached up and plucked free the pin holding the twist of hair and curls high off the back of her neck. They tumbled down, and he sank his fingers into the sooty blackness.

“Your hair is like ink, so dark but so soft. I’ve ached to touch it, Elizabeth,” he murmured, teasing the curls through his spread fingers. “You are so lovely, omega. My omega.” He drew her mouth back to his and held her there, trembling, a breath away from seeing them both satisfied.

“Why do you hesitate?” she asked.

“At the Queen’s pleasure, remember?” he teased.

“Such a cad,” she murmured and closed the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, hurt, fluff, smexy bordering on smut

## Chapter Four

* * *

Constance tried not to sigh loudly in the face of Mister George Bailey. A nice enough alpha, he danced attendance along with the others, but Constance had grown weary of his company.

She'd grown weary of all their company. Grown weary of the pretense. None of these males did for her what the Colonel had for Lizzy.

And she wanted that. She wanted heat and fire. Wanted uncontrollable desire. Wanted a male who looked at her like she was everything: the beginning and the end of all things. She was not that for these men. She was a prize to be won. Nothing more.

“Jarvis.”

Her father’s beta arrived instantly at her side. “Miss?”

“I am tired, Jarvis.”

“Gentlemen.” Jarvis’s wings, a deep russet and black swept up. “The lady is retiring. I shall see you out.”

There were six males in attendance today. All of which sought her hand for their own personal reasons. In other words, they were after her fortune.

Constance wasn't stupid. She knew that was her major draw. Her last name and the fortune attached to it had become a beacon causing every alpha with even a modicum of pedigree to pant at her wing tips. But she didn't want just any alpha; she wanted _her_ alpha.

She wanted what her parents had. She wanted what Lizzy had.

Quietly bidding her suitors farewell, Constance stood and brushed past Mister Bailey to go and look out the window. Even know she knew Lizzy was upstairs with her prospective mate, likely getting into who knew what kind of trouble.

Well, not trouble per se, but a modicum of fun Constance envied. What she wouldn't give to have an alpha sweep her off her feet. What she wouldn't do to have one stroke her wings.

She would love to get her hands on those midnight feathers or into those raven locks. Feel the rough stubble of his unshaven face against her palm. Breathe in the scent of his skin once she’d divested him of the cravat which hid his scent-

Her thoughts came to a grinding halt.

_What in the world are you thinking, fool_? Constance berated herself.

Lord Barnes was nothing but a rake in a uniform. He’d made his opinion of her blatantly obvious, and to let herself daydream down that folly of a road would only lead to disaster.

Still, a quiet voice inside her whispered, _he has magnificent wings._

She sighed softly and stretched her own out behind her to their full extent. It had been too long since she'd taken to the sky and let the air fill her feathers.

“What? Chase them all out already?”

Constance yelped and jerked her wings in. Pain tore it's way up her shoulder, and she grabbed for it when her wing drooped toward the floor. “Was that truly necessary?” she snapped, turning to face the man most prevalent in her thoughts.

He gazed at her without comprehension. “It was only a query. Not that I care about the males you bat your eyes at.”

“Not that, you ignoramus! You startled me, and now I have pulled something in my shoulder!”

He came to attention so swiftly it gave Constance pause. His entire remember changed, going from petulant ass to concerned Alpha so quickly it left her breathless when he cleared the room in five long strides.

“Show me,” he demanded.

“I'm well able to care for myself!” she snapped defensively.

He turned eyes of silver blue to hers. “I did not say you couldn't, but an injury of any kind to the wing muscles is not something to ignore. Now show me.”

This time the demand was accompanied by a brush of _Will_ , firm but warm, which saw her submitting before she'd fully comprehended what was happening as she turned to give him her back. Gentle prodding of a rough hand had her standing very still until he found the sore spot and she hissed in pain.

“It's a flight muscle. You're grounded for two weeks.”

Constance gritted her teeth together and stepped away from him. “I shall take your opinion under advisement, Lord Barnes.”

“It's not an opinion. It's a statement of fact. If you try and fly with that muscle acting up, you could do permanent damage!”

“And I said I would take your opinion under advisement!” she huffed. “I'm not a child, sir. I can care for myself.”

He took a step closer. “Now you listen here you little fool! I'm trying to help you!”

“By ordering me grounded?” she gasped. “Who died and made you my alpha?”

Red tinted his eyes. “Do not sass me, omega.”

Constance’s wings slowly lifted, the one drooping when her muscles gave out, but the other lifted high and spread with her anger. “Do not speak to me like that again! Alpha or not, Lord or not, you have no right to speak to me like I'm yours! Not after last night and what you said. I am not some village girl you can treat with contempt one moment and order around the next! I am a Stark, Lord of Winterborne, and you will show respect to me in my own home or I will have you tossed out on your ass.  Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” he snarled. “But let me explain something to you, _omega_. I'm here at the behest of your father.” He stepped closer and locked his fingers around her wrist. “You can spit, and you can snarl all you like, but I'm not going anywhere until the Colonel tells me it's time to go.” The arm he had in the sling slowly pulled free of it as he backed her into the wall and closed his left hand around her throat.

He didn't squeeze but brushed his thumb over her scent gland and made her shake. Then, without warning, he laid the full weight of his _Will_ against her.

Constance whined as her knees gave out.

“Make no mistake, my pretty omega. No one will make this Warlord Alpha leave before he's damn good and ready. Not you, not your threats about your father, nothing!” he hissed harshly, continuing to massage her throat.

“Alpha,” Constance whimpered, only for him to release her roughly and step away. She looked at him for one long, heated moment before rushing from the room, unwilling to allow her tears to fall in front of him.

It wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

She'd found him, her alpha, but he didn't want her.

***

Lizzy lay on Steve’s chest, her head pillowed over his heart. She felt… floaty, like when a strong updraft held one aloft without the need to work one’s wings.

Her dress had long ago pooled around her waist, though her stays and soft blue slip remained in place. His shirt was open to the navel, and her hand rested on warm, toned, ridiculously sculpted muscle. He liked her touch, had in fact, encouraged her to touch more; such was the reason for their scandalous lack of dress.

She smiled and rubbed her cheek on his chest. Not so scandalous, she supposed. They were courting, his offer of mating accepted, and if what Aunt Pepper had told her was true, her Aunt and Uncle’s interactions had been even more risqué during their initial encounters.

His hand had yet to leave the skin between her wings, his fingers tracing and dancing patterns on her flesh. The passionate kissing, touching, wandering of hands had pushed her farther than she was ready, but her alpha had known instantly and slowed down, bringing them to this position of comfort.

“I could sleep here,” Lizzy sighed. Never had she felt so warm or safe as she did in his arms.

He caressed her cheek, trailing his fingers down to her chin which he lifted so she could see his intense eyes. “You could if you wished it,” he offered quietly. “No one would think anything of it if you came to my bed, omega.”

Butterflies jumped in her stomach. Could she? Did she dare?

“I’m… not ready,” she whispered, looking away.

“Elizabeth Heartright,” he huffed teasingly, “I was only offering myself as your pillow. That you would imply I meant something _nefarious_ ,” he gasped and placed his hand on his chest, “I am shocked and appalled!”

She’d started to giggle long before he finished and wriggled around until her chin could rest on the back of her hand while she peered up at him. His eyes twinkled, his smile was full and genuine, and she smiled coyly. “Isn’t the Golden Devil known for his devious nature? A girl must protect her virtue from those who would seek to snatch it away, after all.”

He sat up slowly, all power and grace, forcing her thighs to part over his when he shifted their positions and laid her back on the seat. He was so gentle, tucking her wing, careful of her feathers, seeing each one lay flat and straight on the wing stuck between her body and the back of the settee. The other, he ran his fingers through, stretching it out long into the room, sending the pastel rainbows shimmering through the plumage.

Then, his began to lift, big and beautiful and golden, gleaming in the daylight streaming into the room. They went higher and higher, curved out slowly, then snapped outward, quick and sharp, cracking loudly in the silent room when the air was cut by his feathers.

Lizzy gasped, her heart pounding. He hovered over her, like a dragon who’d caught his prey, glinting fangs, red-rimmed eyes, and flexing muscle. His _Will_ washed over her, caused her to quake and moan with the tender brushing. Heat built in her abdomen. _Need_ hummed on the air. And when he lowered his head to lave his tongue along the edge of her stays, press beneath, and slide over the hard bud of her nipple, Lizzy growled.

“I assure you, Miss Heartright,” he rumbled, treating the other breast to the same attention, “if I wished it, I could be most nefarious. But,” he brought his mouth to the gland on the side of her throat, “I gave my word. At the Queen’s pleasure.”

His words whispered over her skin before his mouth latched down and pulled on the tender flesh. She gave a soft cry, the pleasure intense, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him down until his big frame pressed against hers. She needed the weight, craved it like she craved his scent. Craved the way he made her feel. Safe. Desired. Adored. Protected.

“Alpha! Please!” she begged, her legs falling farther apart, the fabric of her dress pinned beneath his hips. A surge of heat shot through her body when his ground down, giving her only some of what she needed. Still, the pleasure was beyond what she’d yet experienced, exciting her omega, and leading her down a dangerous path when she rumbled a purr, soft and low, meant to entice and invite her alpha to continue.

He rutted against her slowly, pushing, grinding, pressing the hard length of his arousal into her, soaking her pantaloons in seconds when heat began to build there. There, where before she’d only felt pain and discomfort, aching for something she had failed to find when each heat had torn through her body.

He collected her hands one at a time, drawing them up, linking their fingers together and holding them above her head. The rumble of his purr was nearly a growl when he bit lightly at her throat, nipped and sucked and licked her skin, leaving marks behind she was certain, but Lizzy found herself unable to care.

He was calling to her base self, stoking her instincts into a raging fire. She wanted him. She lusted for him. She was desperate to release the pressure building in her belly and heard her dress tear when she jerked her knee up to feel him better.

“‘mega,” he purred and it was an avalanche falling, a cascade of boulders tumbling through her body. “Lizzy,” he whispered, soft and sweet, barely audible above her harsh breathing. “Tell me you want me.”

“Oh, gods,” she whimpered, nearly screaming when his teeth scraped her skin.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Yes!” she cried, her hands clenching in his. “But I’ve never felt…”

“I know, my sweet dove,” he purred, kissing her tenderly, still rutting, still rocking into her aching center. “I could show you pleasure unimagined, Elizabeth.” She stiffened, but he nuzzled his nose against hers. “Completely clothed, my darling. Just like this. I could give you a taste, Lizzy. A taste of what being mine would entail.”

His eyes were heavily shuttered when she managed to bring her gaze to his, but there was enough room to see the bright sky blue swimming in a sea of red.

It gave her pause for only a second before she nodded slowly, giving permission. He hadn’t tried to force her, or coax her with his _Will_ , only waited for her agreement.

Once she gave it, he settled further into her, adding more weight, shocking her that he’d held back, to begin with. Then his wings came down, covering them completely, closing them in a haven of darkness and heat, _need_ , _desire_ , and _excitement_ swiftly suffusing the air. She tasted them on her tongue, just like she could practically taste her own arousal, so thick was the moist heat between her legs.

Again he began to grind his hips into hers, rut against her, but this time there seemed to be a purpose to it as the heat built swiftly in Lizzy’s belly. Her breasts burned, ached and tingled, then his mouth was there, hot tongue stroking, teeth nipping, sneaking beneath the edge of her stays again to curl and flick and worry her nipple. Her heavy breathing eventually worked to his advantage when the flesh worked its way upward with the assistance of his mouth. His lips closed over the entire bud and pulled.

Lizzy growled, excitement pulsing with the pleasure searing her veins. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. Not even flying filled her with such freedom as the attention of her alpha’s mouth on her body. When his hips connected the next time a shock ran through her, driving her head back into the settee in bliss, her throat arched, nose fogged with the intensity of the scents surrounding her.

She could smell him laced through them all, musk and pine and a sharp spice like cinnamon suddenly joining the bouquet. Lizzy knew instantly it was the scent of his arousal. Hot and sexy and she lost herself in the haze of instincts pounding through her blood when she twisted one hand free of his and buried it in his golden curls to pull his head up. He moaned, deep and throaty, and she tugged further, lifting her head to latch her mouth to his throat and suck hard.

His teeth snapped together, and he snarled, his now free hand sinking into her hair to hold her to him. The rutting of his hips became frantic, pulsing in time with the beat of her heart until the tight coiling the heat in her middle had been doing snapped, and she wailed, her cry cutting off under the onslaught of his mouth swallowing her scream.

He thrust gently twice more, sending her body reeling before going still above her. He continued to kiss her though. Long, drugging kisses, pulling every ounce of pleasure out of the action he could before letting his forehead rest against hers as he sucked in air.

“Thank you, omega,” he sighed, a smile curling his lips.

A blush coated her cheeks, and Lizzy looked shyly away. “That was… incredible.”

“Come to my bed,” he coaxed, placing soft kisses on her cheek and jaw. “I can show you more. So much more, Elizabeth.”

“Steven…” she hesitated, knowing just how easy it would be to give in and mate the Warlord Alpha.

“I give you my word, my dove, as a Colonel and an Alpha, I will not mate with you until you agree to it. Until you ask me to before a heated moment happening in my bed. I would never take advantage,” he promised, truth resonating in the words.

Lizzy bit her lip, wanting to give agreement, but hesitant toward the unknown. Could she trust herself with him? Could she keep her hands to herself when all she wanted to do was submit?

A pounding on the door had his eyes flashing instantly red right before he leapt to his feet, his leg giving out before a sweep of wings steadied him. He dragged Lizzy to her feet, had her dress up and refastened in an instant, his shirt buttoned, and was striding with his cane toward the door before she’d fully registered the intrusion.

Steve wrenched the door open. “Who the bloody hell interrupts a courting…” his voice trailed off.

The _distress_ hit her but a second later and sent Lizzy stumbling forward. “Constance?” The woman’s face crumbled, but it was the abject _despair_ which hung on her like a cloud which broke Lizzy’s heart. “Oh, Constance! What happened?”

“He… he… he,” she tried, only to shake her head when the crying wouldn’t stop.

“She smells like…” Steve’s nostrils flared, and his brows pulled together. Then, anger coated his face, followed swiftly by rage when red ran through his eyes. “I’ll kill him.”

He was gone out the door before Lizzy could ask, slamming it loudly behind him. Constance jumped and hunched in on herself at the noise, her wings snapping down as she bawled into her hands.

Lizzy rushed forward and hugged her friend. “Whatever has happened? Constance, please! You’re scaring me!”

She looked up, her face blotchy and eyes devastated. “He’s mine. He’s mine, and he doesn’t want me.”

It took a moment for what she was saying to make sense, but when it did, Lizzy felt all the blood rush from her head. “Lord Barnes? Lord Barnes is your alpha?”

She burst back into tears and nodded.

“How? Are you sure?” Lizzy asked, leading Constance toward the settee before changing her mind and taking her to the window seat instead.

A frantic nod was all Constance could manage for a few minutes as she sobbed against Lizzy’s shoulder. Finally, after soft coos and soothing pets, she calmed enough to give a coherent answer.

“He’s not wearing a glove on his left hand. I knew it the second I smelled him. He’s mine, Lizzy… and he doesn’t want me.” Constance closed her eyes and curled in on herself, her head landing against the window pane. Her wings lay limp behind her, the picture of pain.

Lizzy stared in disbelief. It wasn’t possible. It didn’t happen. Alphas didn’t reject their omegas. _Ever_.

She took Constance’s hand and held it tightly between her own, silent tears now falling down her face.

Whatever were they going to do?

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, violence, Angst, NSFW, smut,  
> (This update brought to you courtesy of @taleasedubh’s generosity through Coffee Updates! Thanks, hun for your support!)

## Chapter Five

* * *

It took minimal effort for Steve to find Bucky. All he had to do was backtrack the scent of distress which hung in the air like a cloud. The girl was utterly beside herself, incoherent in her grief, but all Steve could smell on her was his best friend.

Steve stormed through the house, ignoring the shots of pain running through his thigh with his quick movements and the Landeds who shrank away from his rage. He disliked losing control of his alpha, but this time it couldn’t be helped. If Bucky had made an inappropriate advance toward Miss Stark, it could cause significant problems between Steve and Lord Stark.

The tension between his weyr and the Starks could put a strain on his courtship with Lizzy. That was something he would not allow.

He stalked into the room Bucky was currently occupying and had more of Miss Stark’s anguish slap him in the nose. It was extreme, and he snarled angrily.

Bucky spun around from where he’d been staring into the fire. “Steve, wait!”

He cleared the room in a single leap and push of wings, his cane falling to the ground when he wrapped his hand around Bucky’s throat and slammed him back into the mantle. The thick wood cracked, the candlesticks and porcelain figurines rattled, but nothing fell.

“What the hell did you do?” Steve snarled, his Will pounding in the room.

“You don’t understand,” Bucky growled but remained passive, well aware Steve was riding the edge of his control.

“No, you don’t understand!” Steve snapped. “I’m chasing my omega, Bucky. Mine! If your actions today cause Elizabeth to reject me I will kill you!”

“Steve,” Bucky sighed. “She won’t reject you.”

“Considering the state of Miss Stark when she interrupted? Yes, she just might!” Steve roared, his wings sweeping out, making him appear enormous. “What the hell did you do?”

Pain ripped across Bucky’s face before he clenched his eyes tightly closed. “She’s mine.”

Steve released him, stepped back and nearly fell when his leg gave out. Bucky grabbed his arm and helped him to a chair before retrieving Steve’s cane.

“Buck… that’s… incredible!” Steve said, shocked but happy for his friend. “Why is she so… upset?”

“Because,” Bucky slumped into a chair, “I can’t have an omega.”

“Don’t be stupid. Clearly, you can,” Steve snorted.

“No, Steve,” Bucky grumbled, glaring at him. “I can’t have an omega. I don’t want one!”

Steve stared at him, both stunned and disturbed. Bucky had been a bit of a rake when they’d been younger. Chasing skirts and wooing barmaids was nothing new to the dark alpha sitting across from him, but all that had changed when the French captured him.

The Warlord Alpha had been tortured for information, the extent of that torture not even Steve knew for certain. When he’d found his friend, Bucky had been covered in bloody whip marks, his feathers had been cut or plucked, and bones were broken to keep him grounded. They’d racked him at least once, drawing his wings out to their full extent before jerking them so hard the muscles in his back had torn.

It had been brutal, but Steve had only ever seen the physical damage. He knew there was mental trauma, having heard Bucky scream at night for weeks afterward, but the man had refused to talk about what he’d been through. All he’d said was he hadn’t talked. He hadn’t given the bloody French anything. He hadn’t broken even though they’d tried.

Steve didn’t doubt the truth of that. Bucky was the strongest man he’d ever known, but that didn’t explain why he couldn’t have an omega. Unless…

“Did something… happen? When you were captured, did they do something I’m not aware of?” Steve asked cautiously.

With a hand over his eyes, Bucky shook his head.

“Then… what?” Steve asked.

“I just can’t, Steve. I can’t be an alpha for her. I’m barely keeping myself together most days. Dancing attendance on a female? Making her happy? Keeping her that way? How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can barely function in our weyr with people I’ve known forever.”

Steve stared at him a long time, disgusted with what he was hearing. “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

Bucky’s head snapped up. “Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed.

“What else am I supposed to think?” Steve snapped. “You’ve hurt your omega. Destroyed her! I’ve never seen a woman cry like that! If that’s not being a coward, I don’t know what is!”

“So you’d rather I break her when I can’t be what she needs?” He shook his head. “Better she hates me than be tied to an inadequate alpha.”

Steve slowly stood to his feet and leaned heavily on his cane. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say. How many mated pairs do we have in our weyr? How many males are available to speak with? You could have spoken to me about all this before hurting Miss Stark. Instead, you’ve acted the fool, been selfish, and hurt your omega. An action neither of us have ever been able to tolerate.”

Bucky stared at him aghast. “Steve…”

“When Stark finds out, and I assure you he will find out, I will not have your actions today mucking up the work we’ve been doing. You are to return home, Lieutenant. Immediately!” he snapped when Bucky opened his mouth. “You will ask Natasha to replace you. I expect her here by the dinner hour.”

Bucky shot to his feet. “Steve! You can’t do this!”

The Will of two Warlord Alpha’s pounded against each other, equally matched, but Bucky’s guilt made him doubt, and Steve’s anger overpowered him.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander, I can. You’re dismissed until you pull your head out of your arse and apologize to your omega. You will make it right, Barnes before I allow you to return to this house.”

He stiffened, Bucky’s back going ramrod straight. “Colonel, request permission to speak freely.”

“Denied. Take a deep breath, Barnes. Breathe in what you did to Miss Stark. Carry that with you on your flight home and think about what’s more important. Your selfish pride and inability to ask for assistance, or the woman the Gods created for you.” Steve turned on his heel and limped away, his leg aching with every step.

He paused in the doorway to glare at Bucky. “I was moments away from having my omega’s agreement to come to my bed — moments, Lord Barnes. I am weeks away from my rut. If your actions today delay my mating… it will be you who will meet me in the training yard to work off my rage.”

Bucky paled, his actions suddenly having far more significant consequences than he’d thought. “I will leave immediately, Colonel.”

Steve nodded. “I will extend your apology to Lord and Lady Stark.”

“Steve,” Bucky mumbled before he could walk away. “Good hunting… brother.”

“The hunting was excellent. Now… only time will tell.” Steve didn’t look back when he left the room but was aware of Bucky striding out after him and straight out the front door.

He headed for the stairs and sighed, not having the desire to climb to the second story when his leg already ached something fierce. Before he could extend his wings and flit to the second floor, Jarvis, Stark’s beta, stepped from the shadows.

“You’re coat, sir.” He held it out, prepared to assist Steve back into it once the alpha lowered his wings.

It was the one he'd been wearing earlier, apparently collected from Lizzy’s library. “Thank you, Jarvis.”

Jarvis smoothed the coat over Steve’s shoulders and straightened the back where the placard fit between his wings. “If I may be so bold, sir…”

“You may, Jarvis,” Steve agreed curious to know what the beta had to say.

“Lord Stark will not be impressed with Lord Barnes. Your decision to send him away is a smart one.”

“Eavesdropping, Jarvis?” Steve asked, a smirk twitching his lips when the beta appeared before him with his cravat in hand.

“I serve the Starks, Colonel. It is my duty and my privilege to be the majordomo and Lord Stark’s beta. Miss Stark is as dear to me as if she were my own hatchling. Her upset today… disturbed me.”

The beta’s blue eyes held a glint which clearly showed he would have come violently to Miss Stark’s defence if the need had been there. He was no stranger to a fight, or so it seemed, though a beta of any calibre against Bucky would have lost, swiftly, even if Buck only had one working arm at the moment.

“He’ll come around. Neither of us expected to find our omegas, and he is…” Steve didn’t know how to explain, or why he was bothering to try, to the beta finishing off his cravat.

“War does strange things to all of us. Torture… even more. But if he hurts our little miss…”

Steve tilted his head. “He needs to get his head on straight. This is a shock.”

“Yours was also a shock, I am certain, yet you treat Miss Elizabeth like the gentleman you are. Good day, Colonel. I will inform Lord Stark of this change of guard. Might I have the lady’s name who will be joining us?” Jarvis asked as he gave the tie a final fluff and stepped back.

“Natasha Romanoff,” Steve said as he returned his attention to the stairwell. “And Jarvis? You’re not going to want to call her lady. She’ll likely stick you with a dagger if you try.”

“Yes, sir.” Jarvis tilted his head.

Steve gave a hearty shove with his wings and landed smoothly on the second floor where he went on the hunt for his omega.

***

He never did find her. Lizzy had sequestered herself in the families wing with Lady Constance, leaving Steve feeling both irrationally angry - it wasn’t Miss Stark’s fault he was riding the edge after his conversation with Bucky - and deeply unhappy for he’d left her, his omega, without so much as a “by your leave.”

And after what had happened, Steve wasn’t even sure she was still his omega. If Bucky’s actions had damaged his chances, Steve would not be responsible for the outcome of what happened.

To make matters worse, he had to explain to Lord Stark why his daughter was beside herself, why Barnes was no longer in residence, and why Natasha Romanoff, a woman of… varied reputation would be joining them.

It had not gone well.

Tony was understandably enraged, demanding answers to questions Steve either couldn’t or wouldn’t give him. Bucky’s reasons were his own, and though Steve might think them foolish and unreasonable, he was not the one who’d been tortured. He was not the one who’d suffered at the hands of the filthy French. He could not begrudge Bucky his caution. Not now.

Of course, things had settled the moment Natasha had arrived. She was his beta and had been so for many years. It took little effort for the woman to charm a room or incite a riot. She’d come oozing charm after learning what Bucky had done.

It also didn’t hurt that she was ridiculously beautiful and knew it. Stark had taken one look at her and turned to his mate with a beseeching, “I want one.”

Usually, Natasha would have taken offence to such a statement, but Pepper’s reaction, a look of exasperation and unwavering, “No,” had made Nat laugh and wander off with Stark’s omega arm and arm, the two redheads taking to each other like peas to a pod.

Still, Steve had taken it upon himself to warn Stark that Natasha’s mate was the steely-eyed Beta known as Hawkeye. Tony would do well to keep his comments to himself for Barton always hit what he aimed at, and more than once an alpha who’d come sniffing where he didn’t belong had gone home with one less family jewel. Or if Natasha got to them first, a few broken teeth and one less family jewel.

Sufficiently forewarned, they’d shared a quiet, slightly stilted dinner lacking the two youngest omegas, though Nat and the Lady Pepper had done their best to keep the conversation flowing. Bucky’s departure and the girl's absence still hung over the room like the scent of wet dog, sending both he and Natasha seeking their beds far earlier than usual.

Thankfully, his suite was well stocked with Stark’s excellent brandy, allowing Steve to sit before the fire with Natasha quite comfortably.

“So,” she said after the silence had stretched on. “Are you going to tell me about this girl or must I seek her out on my own?”

“Be nice, Natasha. She’s mine,” Steve advised, the red washing into his vision when he growled in warning.

“Cap…” she sighed when he arched a brow her way. “Colonel, then. It’s not like I’ve been working with you since the beginning when you were just a Captain or anything,” she huffed.

“Since the beginning when you tried to knife me in the heart?” he chuckled softly.

She shrugged. “I was a good spy.”

“Now you’re an even better double agent,” he agreed.

Her green eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re just fortunate Barton was part of your team or I would have killed you that day.”

“Such remorse,” Steve quipped.

“Buckets,” she laughed. “So, tell me.”

She ruffled her wings and Steve watched, awed as always, when the shifted from muted brown into pure black, finally fading into a silver grey. They were the reason she made such a good spy. The woman known as only The Widow was reported to have red hair and pure black wings. The woman he knew as Natasha Romanoff had always had unremarkable dowdy brown wings, while her counterpart, Natasha Barton’s were the pretty silver grey.

No one had quite been able to figure out how she did it. Whether it was a throwback to some ancient draconian ancestor, a quirk of some long forgotten nature, or even a bit of magic, but she could change their colour to suit her needs. A wig, a few added accessories here and there, and before you knew it, she was a completely different woman. The beta was invaluable to his weyr and the missions they were often tasked with.

“Lizzy is…” Steve had not the words and struggled for a moment. “Like spring. She takes you by surprise and breezes in to make you smile. She’s exquisite, a true queen with the most stunning white wings and ebony hair, creamy pale skin and slate grey eyes.”

“And your hoard? I assume you’re collection is… appropriate,” she snickered.

He grinned. “Quite! Though it appears my studio will also be a draw.”

“Really?” she smiled past the lip of her tumbler.

“Indeed…” Steve sobered. “If… she doesn’t break things off.”

“Steve…” Natasha sighed. “She’d be a fool if she did. You are her alpha. There is little doubt in that.”

“You did not see the devastation on her when Miss Stark interrupted.” He rose to limp toward the window. “And I left her without a word of comfort…”

“You were being a Warlord Alpha,” she huffed. “If your Miss Heartright cannot understand your motives, perhaps she is not the omega you need.”

Steve snarled Nat's direction viciously. “Do not disparage my omega when you have not even met her, Natalia!”

She rolled her eyes. “Then stop being ridiculous.” She tilted her head to glare at his leg. “When last did you change your bandage?”

“Yesterday. Why?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I can smell it. Why can’t you?” Natasha got to her feet and pointed at his vacated seat. “Drop your pants and sit your overbearing alpha ass down.”

Steve threw her a glare. “I can redress my own wound, Natasha.”

“But you won’t, so be a good boy and do as told.” She stood there and glared at him, waiting, immovable.

Steve finally huffed out a breath and tugged his shirt from his breeches as he limped slowly back over to the chair. Undoing the buttons, he let them fall around his knees and sat with an annoyed slouch.

Natasha pulled her wings back tight to her body and went to her knees. The dark forest green of her dress played nicely off her skin tone and matched the heavy emerald necklace around her throat.

“How mad was your mate when you packed that dress to come play nursemaid?” Steve asked.

“Less mad than when he found out what Barnes had done. Though perhaps we will conveniently forget to tell him about the “appreciative eyes” of Lord Stark during dinner,” she smiled wickedly.

“We don’t need your Hawk taking a shot at Lord Stark,” Steve agreed as she began to unwrap his thigh.

“It would only be a warning… likely. Pluck a few of those pretty primaries of his.”

Steve chuckled softly. “And you thought Sam was bad for preening.”

She laughed in a trilling roll of giggles. “It appears Stark’s omega is used to him, which means he’s all snap and snarl. No bite.”

“Oh, I’m fairly certain he has a big bite. You were not there when I had to apologize for Barnes. He went damn near feral. Even if Buck pulls his head out of his arse, Stark will be a hard one to win over.”

“Barnes has his moments. He only needs a reason to find the charming rake he once was again.” Natasha frowned when she peeled back the pad protecting his wound. “Good God, Steven!”

He glanced down and sighed. Red and raw and irritated, it didn’t look good. “I have spent much time on my feet,” he muttered in the way of an explanation.

“And haven’t been cleaning it, nor caring for yourself, nor resting like you were told,” she tsked.

“I’ve been… preoccupied,” he grumbled. “This deal with Stark is important. Finding my omega on top of it was unexpected.”

She made to say more only to stop and turn toward the door; her head cocked before she flowed gracefully to her feet and her wings returned to the muted brown she’d worn all day. Her steps were silent across the room where she paused again to turn the doorknob and wrench it open. “Can I help you, little spy?”

“Oh!” Lizzy cried. “I’m sorry. I thought… that is I was looking for… I seem to have my rooms mixed up. Excuse me.”

“Elizabeth,” Steve called out, unable to see her past his beta but her voice and her scent flowed into the room like the freshest of breezes.

Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she took a step in retreat. “Oh… oh, I see.”

Surprise, suspicion, and finally utter despair filled his nose and sent Steve lurching to his feet. “No!”

Natasha simply reached out, grabbed Lizzy by the elbow, and yanked her into the room. “Not what you think, little omega.” She turned back to Steve dropped a curtsey and murmured, “Alpha. I’ll leave your omega to see to your wound.” She was out the door with it shutting tightly behind her before either he or Lizzy could protest.

“It’s not what you think,” Steve said, holding out his hands while drinking her in.

Dressed for bed, she stood in her dressing gown, a pretty pink with tiny embroidered roses and tufts of white lace at the neck and cuffs, tied at her waist, and a box in her hands. Her hair was loose, tumbling down her spine in waves of inky night. She looked tired, dark circles beneath her eyes and red-rimmed them, but they didn’t take anything away from her beauty.

She wasn’t looking at him but began to mumble, “Uncle Stark… he said you’d been limping worse when he came to check on Constance and bring us dinner, and I know a few… herbal… herbal remedies from my books…” Her voice trailed off as a tear traced her cheek.

Steve jerked his pants up, closing only enough buttons to keep them from falling down again, and made his way toward her even as she backed away from him. “Omega,” he crooned, aching when she flinched away from him. “Natasha, Miss Romanoff, is my beta.”

Her lashes fluttered, her pale cheeks filled with colour, and she slowly lifted her head. “What?”

“I haven’t seen you since we parted in your library to be able to explain how I sent Lord Barnes away. I could not allow him to stay after what occurred and requested he have Natasha replace him. She’s mated to a good friend of mine and has been my beta for many years,” he said, rushing to get it all out so she would no longer smell like he’d crushed her heart.

“Oh… I thought…” Embarrassment and shame clouded her ink and roses scent.

“I would never betray you, Elizabeth,” he stated softly.

“It's been a trying day,” she sighed, her wings drooping as she swayed forward to rest her forehead against his chest.

“I’m terribly sorry for what my friend has done to yours. I cannot begin to express how sorry,” he said softly, slowly closing his arm around her and burying the opposite hand in her hair.

She began to shake and whined pitifully. “I had to leave our nest. I had to!” she cried and clutched his shirt.

Steve quickly took the box she’d brought from her hand and placed it on a table before drawing her to the settee near his fire and pulling her down into his arms. “It’s alright, omega. I am here.”

“She’s so sad, Steven! Being with her is like… scenting death. She’s in so much pain, and I couldn’t stand to be in there with Constance when all I can smell is despair!”

Her tears soaked his shoulder, her disquiet filling him with even more anger toward his friend. “It is alright, my dove. I will fix this. Somehow. Someway. I will see this set to rights.”

“How?” she whispered.

“I do not know yet, but I know Barnes. He is not a bad alpha. His reasons for his actions are… misguided but not vindictive.”

“How could hurting his omega like that not be vindictive? I don’t understand.”

“He believes he will be a poor alpha to her. That she is better off without him. The trauma he suffered in France was… extensive.”

She sighed softly. “I can understand that. I was not tortured, but I remember the mental trauma of losing my parents. How it… changed the way I thought about… everything. But… he hurt her, Steven… so badly. It will take more than an explanation and an I’m sorry to fix what he’s done. He’s broken her.”

“A broken alpha and a broken omega,” Steve sighed. “We will have to help them both.”

She nodded slowly, more a nuzzling than agreement. “May I stay here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Constance was asleep, but the scent is… I won’t sleep there.”

“Of course, darling. Of course. I invited you didn’t I?” Steve gently tilted up her chin to see her stormy eyes, dark and liquid after her tears and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Steven,” she sighed and tipped her face up further.

Her scent spiked with arousal as he dropped his head to brush their mouths together lazily. “I look forward to having you in my bed, Elizabeth.”

She blushed a beautiful rose across her cheeks. “I look forward to it as well, but should we not tend to your wound first?”

“If you would be so kind.” Steve slipped out from beside her and got to his feet to toe off his boots and discard his shirt to the settee.

“I thought all men of wealth had a valet to assist him,” she said quietly.

“I certainly do at home, but Barnes and I are used to doing for ourselves. As we had only planned to be in residence a few days I did not think it necessary.”

She was quite red in the face by the time his hands returned to the buttons of his breeks.

“I can call Natasha back if this is too much, omega?”

Her eyes snapped up, and there was a spark of lightning in them, a fire of retribution. “I can tend to my own alpha without assistance, thank you very much.”

Steve arched an amused brow at her jealousy. “There is nothing between myself and Natasha but the bond between an alpha and his beta.”

“I'm aware,” she huffed and got to her feet to retrieve the box she'd brought.

“Then why are you miffed, sweet dove?”

If a look could shred feathers, she would have clipped his wings. “I finally work up my courage to accept your invitation after spending a… horrendous afternoon consoling my best friend only to come face to face with the most stunningly beautiful women I've ever seen, who's in your suite while you are practically pantless. Excuse me if I had a moment of concern, Colonel!”

He loved it when she got all riled up and snippy. Those beautiful wings of hers would lift and stretch, ruffle and cause her feathers to ripple with rainbows. Fire turned her smoky eyes to granite, and pink flushed the cream from her cheeks. She became such a glorious creature.

“Forgive me,” he murmured and bowed deeply before he let his pants drop to the ground, revealing his undergarments, and sat to remove his socks then pulled the leg up on his underwear. He bit the inside of his cheek to retain his smirk when she inhaled sharply at his undressed state.

“As she is your beta, I can see my way to forgiveness,” Lizzy quipped, returning to his side where she sank down to her knees and hummed unhappily at the state of his wound. The lift and fall of her wings and the way she fluffed them out behind her expressed her disquiet far faster than Natasha’s scolding could ever have done.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“Liar,” she muttered and pressed her fingers down lightly around the bullet wound. “Heat and redness. Swelling. A foul odour. This is infected.”

“And what would you know of infected wounds, Elizabeth?” he asked curiously.

“Extensive library. I read everything I can get my hands on. Once, one of the Landeds took a blow from an axe, and the wound became infected. There was talk of taking off his leg, even eventual death, so I began to research and read and, well, experiment a little on smaller injuries. Eventually, I found a few remedies which appeared to help with healing and infection. I was unfortunately too late to help Manny.”

She shrugged like it meant nothing, but he could tell it had bothered her, his sweet and kind omega. Lightly, Steve brushed her cheek. “I have utter faith in you, Lizzy.”

She looked up, and Steve’s gut clenched. His omega was on her knees, dressed for bed, and looking at him like he’d offered her the moon. His reaction was visceral, soul deep, instinctual, as was the rumbled growl which purred through his chest.

Her eyes warmed even as her wings relaxed, sliding out long and submissive behind her. “Alpha,” she crooned.

“Do what you must so I may take you to my bed,” he said, a slight red tint coming to his vision.

A spike of desire, want, lust spiralled around them, sending Steve’s mind racing with far too many thoughts. He could smell her arousal, the sweet aroma clouding his nose. Her hands were dextrous and gentle as she treated his injury, far more capable than he would have expected such a sheltered omega could be. But her touch, her care, her attention, filled him with a sense of calm and connection even as he fought to keep from reacting physically to her presence.

Once she finished applying her concoction, one of pungent herbs that had a moderate cooling effect, she retrieved a wad of cotton and a length of bandage and began wrapping the wound with a surgeon's precision.

“You are very adept at that,” Steve praised, swallowing down the moan her soft fingers on his thigh were inducing.

“Sometimes, when I go to the landed village, I take my supplies along and help where I can.”

She said it without looking at him, uncertainty coating her scent. “Did you think I would scold you for that, Elizabeth?”

“Some people do.” She tied off the bandage but stayed on her knees, her hands on his thigh.

Steve leaned down and cupped her face. “I am not most people, my dove.” Her smile was brilliant and beautiful. He couldn’t help but kiss her soft lips and stroke her silky hair. “Come to bed, darling.”

She pushed to her feet, Steve got to his and drew her close for another soft kiss, needing to taste her lips again. “You make an excellent nurse, sweet,” he purred. She blushed, so pretty, and he gave the tie on her dressing gown a tug.

Her nerves were present, but he let his Will wrap around her, soothe and comfort and assure her everything would be fine as he opened her dressing gown. He pushed it off her shoulders, reached around and drew it away from her wings as she pulled her arms free and crossed them at her waist. The robe he threw next to his shirt before lightly tracing his fingers up her bare arms to the cap sleeves of her pretty linen shift.

“Go make your nest, darling,” he urged, knowing she would want to push pillows around and tuck or untuck blankets. Her omega instincts would be going into overdrive not only being in a new bed but in a bed with him.

She darted away and sent pillows plummeting only to pick them up and tuck them where she wanted them. A small purr and tiny chirps filled the air around her. The happy little noises did him in, and Steve moved carefully around the room to snuff out the candles, leaving only the one on the side table glowing. There was more than enough firelight to see by, and when he turned to see if she had completed her happy nesting, she stood before it, unaware of how the light silhouetted her body through the thin fabric of her shift.

She took his breath away and sent his blood running south making him lightheaded. Hard and aching, he made his way toward her when she held out her hands.

“Come to bed… alpha.”

“Lizzy,” he purred, taking her hand to pull her into his chest. “You tempt me to break my word, omega.”

She smiled knowing he wouldn't even so tempted. “You smell… divine,” she sighed and nuzzled her nose into his chest.

“Get in the bed, Elizabeth,” he growled, caressing her arms.

“You first, alpha,” she purred and walked him backward the final few steps. “You wouldn’t want to ruin my nest now, would you?”

“I would not,” he agreed, pulling his wings in to sit on the edge, slide back to the middle of the pile of pillows, and wait. She bit her lip, face flushed, eyes darting to his chest and away. “Come, darling. Take your rest.” By the scent of her, she wasn’t thinking about sleep.

She crawled onto the bed, giving him a lovely view down her shift. She let her wings relax over them and settled to his side. Her hand went to his chest, stroked lightly. Her teeth worried her lip.

“Something on your mind, Elizabeth?” he asked knowingly.

“I… really enjoyed what happened this afternoon,” she admitted softly.

Steve reached out and lightly stroked her wing. “Would you want to do something more?”

“Yes…” she sighed, pressing into him and purring under his touch.

He lightly plucked the tie closure on her shift, pulling until the fabric opened and revealed her breasts, unbound and free of the confinement of her stays. They were beautiful and firm, dark areolas and large nipples. Steve encouraged her closer, surrounded her breast with his fingers, and began to lap at her gorgeous flesh.

She whimpered and arched and moaned as Steve lifted her higher, over him, brought her down so she straddled his waist and once again could feel what she did to him pressed against her mound.

“Steve!”

“I know, darling. Feels so good. I can feel how warm you are. Use me, my queen, my omega. Take what only I can give you.”

She arched and moaned, rocked her hips down on his, and a growl tore from her throat. She sat back, rubbing on him, the heat and wet of her loins soaking through to his cock.

He continued to massage and squeeze her breasts, run his thumbs over her nipples, and tug them when they grew hard and swollen. Her cries increased in volume and intensity, and her canines were again indenting her lip.

Steve pushed up, bracing with one arm behind him to free the other to grasp the nape of her neck and bring her mouth to his. Her tongue met his and retreated, inviting him into her mouth, and Steve followed eagerly, wantonly to rub the length of her fangs. Her whimpers grew stronger, more frantic, almost desperate. She drove him wild with her sensuality, with her innocence. Mad with want of her. He needed to taste her like he needed to drink water.

Falling back to the bed, Steve used both hands to drag her shift up. Her pantaloons were in the way, but he didn’t care, just lifted her by the waist, all the way up until her knees banded his ears and the exquisite, delectable, delicious essence of her was right there, his nose was nearly buried in it.

“St-Steve?” she gasped.

He only growled and swept his tongue through the opening in her pantaloons, finding the ambrosia waiting in her fragrant muff.

“Oh, gods!” she moaned, her hands landing on the carved headboard.

He chuckled into her and drew his hands down to grip her svelte bottom so he could press her harder to his face. His moans and growls of pleasure mixed with her cries, sloppy wet sounds of enjoyment, and the creaking of the wooden bed frame.

It took only a dozen licks and sucks and pulls on her clit before she flooded his mouth with her release, gasping, moaning, and crying his name.

Steve set her back a little, pulled her shift down off his face, and smiled to see her sated and shaking, peering down at him, her magnificent wings outstretched.

“Beautiful,” he purred. “Simply beautiful.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fluff, angst  
> This quick update brought to you courtesy of @sarahmatthews7 through Coffee Updates. Thanks for your support!

## Chapter Six

* * *

Elizabeth woke with the first call of the morning Blackbird outside the window. Dawn was encroaching on the night, lifting the veil of black and lightening it to pinks and golds outside the window. A shaft of early sunlight had snuck its way past the draperies to fall over the floor. It created a lane of colour on the otherwise shadowed rug.

She watched it creep slowly through the room, gradually getting closer as the sun peaked its way above the horizon until it climbed the side of the bed and sent sparkles of fire racing through the plumage of the golden feathers covering her, the bed, and a portion of the floor.

He had such enormous wings the didn't quite fit the bed.

Lizzy wasn’t at all sure how she’d come to be in this position, spooned by the big alpha who slept on behind her, wrapped in his wings with hers tucked tight to her spine. Not when she’d gone asleep against his chest with her wings covering them both.

Memories of the previous night and the actions she’d taken with him caused her face to burn a little. After all, he’d had his face in places she had not know people put their faces. And his tongue - merciful gods - his tongue.

A shiver streaked her spine, renewed desire lighting in her belly.

He shifted behind her, nuzzling into her neck and tightening the grip he had around her waist. A soft purr slipped from his chest as he rutted gently into her bottom.

Lizzy fought back a moan, not wanting to wake him, only breathed deeper to take him in. He smelled so good. She’d never slept as well as she had with him, and Lizzy was moderately certain it only had a little to do with the pleasure she’d received last eve. No, the majority of her peace came from being there, with him, in a nest which had been all of her own making.

In eleven years she had never not shared a bed with Constance, and while they were both omega, they didn’t have the same tastes when it came to pillows and blankets and how things should be. So they’d compromised. Lizzy built her side the way she liked, Constance did the same with her half, and they lived with it.

It was okay, but this had been perfect. Alpha’s didn’t build nests. They could happily climb into any bed and be content to sleep.

Lizzy had once overheard a gruff older Alpha remark that omegas were like dogs. They had to circle three times before they could lay down. It had been the most offensive thing ever said in her presence, and her uncle had seen the man escorted from the party.

Later, Tony had explained the elder _gentleman_ had been a rogue. An alpha who’d forgone ever having a mate, omega or otherwise, and had grown increasingly contemptuous for the fairer sex while progressively getting ruder with age. Her uncle had assured her any alpha shown the luxury of a real nest would never speak so crassly about it.

Lizzy wondered what Steve would think after having been in hers? It wasn’t like she’d had a chance to nest properly. These weren’t her pillows or sheets or blankets, but they smelled like him which made it easier. Still, one day she would show him a true nest. One with the silks and velvets she adored properly stuffed pillows, and a bed the correct size.

While big enough for a regular alpha, her Warlord Alpha was nearly spilling out in places. She was pretty sure she was laying on one of his wings for more feathers splayed out across the bed but from beneath the sheet.

Lizzy also understood the cryptic remark made by Pepper better now. The one about not worrying much about night clothes after mating. Steve was far warmer than she’d expected, his wings around her keeping in the heat and causing a trickle of sweat to roll down her neck. She imagined sleeping nude kept one from sweltering and obtaining heatstroke, but Lizzy would not trade this first experience - clothes and all- for anything in the world.

Being here, now, with him, it was heaven.

The crushing realization that Constance may never have this moment had Lizzy thrusting a fist to her mouth to keep back the shocked sob.

Steve jolted awake. “Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”

“I should go,” she whispered, torn between staying and returning to comfort her friend.

He nuzzled into her again, rooting through her hair; his nose finally finding the skin beneath her ear. “You do not have to run off. I do not like your sadness, my dove. I have never slept so well as I have this night with you, but I dislike waking to find you unhappy. What has so distressed you?”

“I woke up so happy… then I had a thought that Constance, she may never feel as I do now,” Lizzy whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. “My happiness makes me feel guilty.”

He stroked his fingers over her abdomen. “No, Elizabeth. No. Do you think she would want that?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Then you must put such thoughts from your mind. Your Miss Constance is likely very happy for you. It…” he hesitated before sighing, and she could scent his unhappiness, “pains me to know the man I consider my best friend, nay, my brother, could so betray her. Barnes has shown a side of himself I am embarrassed to have witnessed.”

She turned her head and looked at him over the arch of her wing. “I can’t begin to understand what he went through, but to deny her as he did… I’m not sure I could forgive him if he were mine.”

Steve rumbled out a growl. “Then it is a good thing he is not your alpha.”

The deep tones had butterflies jumping in her belly and desire warming her womb. But it was a giggle that burst from her lips when he tried to sit up, only to find himself thoroughly stuck, pinned to the bed by the wing she was laying on.

“How in the world did that happen?” he muttered, frowning at the feathers spread out beneath her.

“I haven’t a clue!” Lizzy laughed. “I was wondering the same when I woke. I feel a bit like a captured chicken with mine all tucked around me, and you are very warm.”

Steve pulled his upper wing away, dragging the tips from the floor, and folded it behind him. “Some days they certainly get in the way.”

Lizzy sat up and shoved the sheets from her legs, turned to look at him, and smiled when she found tousled curls, sleep flushed skin, and a lazy smile. Placing a hand on his bare chest, she gently danced the fingertips of her opposite hand down the arch of his wing. “Well, if you weren’t such an imposing alpha,” she teased.

He caught her around the waist and lifted her to sit astride his hips. “Keep that up, Elizabeth, and you won’t be leaving this room for some time.”

She lightly stroked her fingertips over his chest, feeling the flush in her cheeks but also the interest of her omega to see what other things he could teach her without mating her. “I should get back to see how Constance is,” she murmured, even as she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss over his heart.

“You seem inclined to leave,” Steve chuckled, sinking his fingers into her hair and humming in pleasure when her tongue flicked over his flesh.

“With such enticing breakfast, how could I leave?” She licked along the line of his well-defined chest and slowly swirled her tongue over the small bud of his nipple.

He rumbled another call, and she felt it all the way to her soul. “Alpha.”

His hand tightened in her hair and drew her head up while the opposite splayed over her back beneath her wings and urged her closer. “Omega,” he purred, holding her head still for the attention of his lips when he nipped and pulled and nibbled on hers. “I can smell you, ‘mega,” he growled. “You smell luscious.”

He sat up with her held tightly to him, his wing now free, and rumbled out the granite and boulders tumble of rocks sound which she was beginning to learn seemed to be directly connected to her womb, sending moisture rushing down to soak her thighs.

After last night’s assignation, her pantaloons had been thoroughly soaked, seeing her shedding them to the floor rather than sleeping in wet drawers. Seeing as how he’d had his mouth down there, it wasn’t as if her lack of undergarments scandalized him.

Lizzy skimmed her palms over his broad shoulders and down his back to stroke her fingers from the beds of his wings up along the length of the arch, loving the feel of his soft feathers beneath her hands.

He wrenched his mouth away and threw his head back in pleasure. “Gods, Elizabeth!”

“I love it when you use my full name,” she sighed and whimpered when he tugged her hair. “Everyone calls me Lizzy like I’m still eleven, still a child, but you call me Elizabeth and I feel a woman. No more am I simply a girl, but an omega for my alpha.”

The blue of his eyes was so bright when he returned his gaze to hers they made her breath catch, but it was the emotion swimming in them which made hers water. “My darling, Elizabeth. You are certainly no girl.” He released her hair but only to sink his fingers into the underside of her wings and draw them slowly through her feathers.

The pleasure had her closing her eyes on wave after wave of bliss. “Steven,” she sighed.

“You are no girl, but a woman on the cusp of being my mate. You will be my mate won’t you, beautiful Elizabeth?”

She couldn't look away from his eyes and whimpered a soft, “Yes.”

“Soon?” he asked and nipped lightly at the gland in her throat.

She gasped and jerked against him. “Yes!”

“And then you’ll wed me, won’t you?” he purred, shifting his body beneath hers, moving the two of them until she found herself pressed onto her back on the bed with him rising over her. “Stand before the minister and vow your love?”

The ties of her shift still gaped open, so it was nothing for him to take his tongue over the mound of her breast and pull on her nipple with his lips as his hands slowly pushed her shift up her thighs. Lizzy could only moan and clutch at his shoulders, her body on fire for him.

“In a dress of white and silver with flowers in your hair and my mark on your throat,” he coaxed before licking a path of searing heat straight to her scent gland.

“Steven!” she cried and arched into the hand suddenly stroking the inside of her thighs.

“Tell me you will,” he whispered against her cheek.

She let out a soft whine, the tension building and he hadn’t even touched her yet. “I will. Of course, I will!” Thick, strong fingers lightly pet her moist opening, and Lizzy snarled with the bolt of ecstasy which shot through her body. “Alpha!”

“Omega,” he rumbled so deep and low it seemed to sink into her skin and thunder through her soul. “Elizabeth…” He lifted his head to kiss her, tiny pecks to her lips, driving her mad with urgency for something deeper, something more, but he stopped, hovering above her only inches away.

His wings lifted, catching the shaft of sunlight on his feathers. They glittered and gleamed and shone beautifully, setting her reaching for them in wonder and not a little awe. “By the gods you’re magnificent,” she whispered.

He touched her cheek, drawing her attention even as his fingers stroked the wetness between her thighs. “Elizabeth… do you love me?”

The beseeching blue eyes held such hope, such raw _want_ it made her throat ache with tears. “I shouldn’t, not after only days, but I do. I do love you, Steven.”

“I already adore you, love you, need you so badly, my Elizabeth. I was so scared you’d walk away from me. Terrified you’d reject me after…”

“Oh, Steven! I could never,” she cried, clinging to him in denial. “I’ve waited for you so long. You’re mine — my Alpha. I love Constance, but you… you’re my future, Steven. Not even Uncle could change that.” Such relief poured from him it made her nose blind to any other scent.

“I think… I think I would run feral if you changed your mind.”

Tears threatened to fall as she gently took his face in her hands. “Never,” she breathed against his lips when she urged him closer. “I would never.”

A gasp left her when his hand at her center began to move and stroke and touch her with such skill. Then his mouth captured hers, and she could only moan and arch beneath him as he took her high and showed her the stars, made her weep and whine and cry his name.

An animal sound of pleasure ripped from her chest when he parted her folds and slipped a finger between them.

“My god, Elizabeth. You're so tight, darling. You will feel like heaven when I'm finally inside you.”

Heat erupted along her spine and writhed in her middle. “Now, I want you now!”

He paused, and his lifted wings quivered before he lowered his forehead to hers. “I can't, not now.”

“Steven!” she whined. “Alpha, please!”

“Elizabeth!” he barked. “I will mate you tonight if that is still your wish, but I will not break the promise I made by succumbing to a passion filled moment. I won't have you regretting this!”

“I won't! I won't! Please, alpha. I need you.” Frantic with the heat and sensations filling her, Lizzy was nearly senseless.

“I will give you all you need, my dove. Let me please you. Let me pleasure you,” he purred and coaxed and pressed a second finger inside her willing body.

“Gods! Steven!” she screamed.

“There is more, sweet Elizabeth. So much more,” he whispered and nuzzled into her neck. “Try and breath, love.”

She couldn't breathe. She could barely function with what was happening to her. It was so much more than before. Bigger, stronger, so much more intense. When he began to slide those fingers in and out slowly, she swore the gods themselves sang out in joy.

Then he curled them inside her and stroked something Lizzy hadn't know existed. Her world exploded into a sea of white.

Her limbs shook with the power of her release. She felt herself clench around Steven's naughty fingers and knew her mouth was open in a soundless scream, but there was little she could do about it. There was nothing outside the bliss flooding her body, but when Steven nipped his fangs into her throat, Lizzy found the breath to shriek her pleasure.

She knew nothing for a time but the gentle feeling of floating and basked in the warmth. Slowly, her senses returned, her body becoming aware of the quiet rumbling purr of a content and happy alpha, the softness and warmth of his wing over her, and the light caress of his fingertips on her cheek.

“Mmm.” She turned only her head and smiled lazily at him.

“Are you back with me, darling?” he chuckled.

Lizzy blushed at his proud smirk. “Yes.”

“Are you angry I said no?”

She shook her head. “You're a good man, Steven. You kept your word.”

“Did you mean it? Do you want to, tonight I mean?” he asked, hope in his voice.

“This has all been very… intense,” she whispered, suddenly feeling afraid.

“What holds you back, Elizabeth? What keeps you from coming to my side? What are you afraid of? You must know I would never hurt you.”

Not wanting to have this conversation where all she could smell was him and sex, Lizzy rolled to her side and out from under his wing to rise and go for her dressing gown.

When she heard him moving behind her, she picked up his shirt and handed it to him without looking.

“What's this for?”

“I can't have a serious conversation with you when you're mostly naked.”

“Why?”

“It's highly distracting.”

He snickered but put his shirt on. “Tell me what’s on your mind, omega.”

It was not a request, but not quite a demand either. “I’ve been running my life unchecked for a good ten years, Steven. I’m an omega with a brain, one she uses despite the backlash it often brings. I can’t just stop thinking for myself once we’re mated. I’ve seen enough omegas lose their sense of self afterward, and then the bloom is off the marriage, and they are lost at how to proceed because their alpha had become their be all to end all. And yet, he is off to the club or whatever amusement he finds pleases him for the moment while she is meant to sit home and be brainless until he has a mind to either plant a hatchling in her belly or is in rut!”

He looked taken aback before he stepped forward and took her hand. “Elizabeth, I have already said how much I like your mind, your sharp tongue, and your willful ways. My weyr is full of strong-minded females, and my mother was one as well. I have no desire to tie you down or rule you once we are mated, but I would not be averse to being your partner. Your home and fortune are yours, and will remain yours even if offered as your dowry, though I would like my friend and solicitor to look over your accounts to make sure everything is on the up and up.”

“McKinley has been most attentive and informative over the years. I assure you everything is in working order.”

“I was not implying that it wasn’t, only offering a second set of eyes. Sam is very good at seeing things others have missed, or offering advice on new and better investment opportunities. Samuel Wilson is how your Uncle originally was brought to my attention.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, feeling a little foolish.

Steve smiled. “It’s fine. I do understand this is difficult for you. It is not I who will be required to leave my home and integrate into a new weyr. It’s not I who the law states will now be under the rule of their new alpha. I do understand, Elizabeth. I won’t ask you to change who you are. I only want to walk your life’s journey with you.”

“Oh.” Now she felt very foolish. “It’s… everything's happening so fast. This life, it’s all I’ve known.”

He caught her chin with his knuckle and tilted her face up. “Then come home with me first.”

“What?”

“I must leave in two days. Come home with me. See my life and my weyr. Meet my people. You will see your life will not be so different. Perhaps a little louder,” he chuckled. “A few young fledglings are running around, as well as a couple of omega we are looking after. Hope and Scott just had a new fledgling. Her name is Cassie.”

There was such fondness, and such wistful longing in his voice Lizzy agreed before she had a chance to talk herself out of it. “I would like that.”

“Excellent! We’re to be having a ball as it is. Friends of ours are coming in from Norway.”

She blinked in surprise for a moment before stuttering, “Y-you have friends in Norway?”

“Indeed. The princes and their guard. Good men, brilliant fighters. Thor swings a mighty axe and Loki is a demon with his blades. He's also a bit of an ass with his pranks," Steve muttered. "I must warn Mrs. Danvish to keep him away from the kitchen."

“I think I need to sit down,” Lizzy murmured and sank to the settee. “You’re _friends_ with the Norwegian Princes?”

“Yes, quite good friends. Barnes, Natasha, Barton, Banner and I helped them out of a bind in Rome back in the day.”

He grinned wistfully, and Lizzy stared at him in disbelief. “I think you have some history to tell, Colonel Rogers. You seem to have been quite a few places in your youth.”

The blue of his eyes sharpened when his focus returned to her. “Elizabeth… much of what I do, what we do, I cannot tell you until we are mated.”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“It’s classified, but Barnes and I were here for a reason. Your Uncle’s inventions have been invaluable in our work. But until you and I have bonded, I will have secrets I cannot reveal.”

“I see…” She didn’t but knew his military work was important, and he likely had rules to follow even if he was a Colonel.

“So does that assuage at least some of your uncertainty, darling?”

Lizzy pressed both hands to her stomach. “Yes, though I think I shall have butterflies perpetually fluttering in my stomach until I see for myself.”

“Then I shall arrange it with your Uncle and send word to my weyr.” He held out his hand, his eyes soft and kind, as he tugged her back to her feet and drew her close to wrap her in his wings. “Everything will be wonderful. You will see. I will introduce you to Natasha today and if you are inclined, spend time with her. I’m certain you will get on well, and you can ask her all the questions about my home you haven’t thought to ask me yet.”

“Will she spill all your most embarrassing tales, Steven?” Lizzy teased, sneaking her hands inside his shirt. He’d only bothered to do up one button and looked quite the dishevelled rake at the moment.

“She’d better not,” he growled menacingly, but it was all for show.

“I’m certain I can charm one or two from her before you arrive to spirit me away,” she giggled.

“And where am I spiriting you to, my sweet dove? Back to the library perhaps?” he asked and pulled her even closer until she was required to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I thought… maybe the village?”

He arched a brow. “Are you running from me, little omega?”

She flattened her breasts to his chest. “Does this feel like running?”

“Mm, perhaps not.” He bent and teased her lips with a barely-there kiss. “But why do you not want to spend time alone with me?”

“Because I am avoiding temptation,” she sighed. “You are far too... scrumptious to resist, Colonel Rogers. I would see your home, settle my nerves, and proceed from there.”

“I believe it is you who is scrumptious, Elizabeth. You are precious. You know that, don't you?” He kissed the end of her nose and made it wrinkle. “But I feel… there is something you should know.”

She inhaled his nerves and frowned. “What is it?”

He stroked his hands down her back. “Elizabeth… I am weeks away from my rut. If it comes and we are not mated, I will have to leave rather than risk… risk taking the choice from you. I would prefer our first time together to be one not ruled by base instincts and pheromones. I wish to take my time, worship you as my mate, and see you into a pleasure drunken haze. Not simply rut you until the heat breaks,” he sighed and set his forehead against hers. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you by being too rough when you are yet untried.”

“I won’t make you wait that long, Steven. I promise. I just… I need this. I need to know.” She felt the tears try to swell and break again, but he cupped the back of her nape.

“None of that, my love. I will give you whatever you need. Anything. Everything.”

“Thank you.” She pressed up on her toes and kissed him. “I really should go. The house will soon be awake, and I should get back before Constance…”

“No one will say a thing about you being here, omega. You’re mine; I’m yours. You are where you belong.”

“It’s not that. I don’t want her to feel abandoned… again.”

“Oh, Lizzy,” he whispered and closed his eyes. “I am so sorry.”

“You didn’t break her heart.” But he was such a good man; she could see how much it hurt him to know his friend had.

“I should have seen Bucky was still hurting. I thought…” He shook his head. “I was wrong. Go. Hurry back to your friend before she misses you.”

He showed her to the door and placed a soft kiss on her lips before he opened it. “Until breakfast.” A smirk twitched his lips.

She dropped a quick curtsey and smiled coyly. “Until breakfast… my alpha.”

He rumbled out a sound like a hungry wolf. “Fly, sweet dove, before I drag you back into my lair and make you scream my name… again.”

“Steven!” she hissed.

He laughed. “Fly, Elizabeth. I will see you soon.”

The door shut and Lizzy rushed away. Soon wasn’t soon enough.

***

Lizzy slowly and quietly opened the door to peak in at Constance, only to find her up and sitting in front of the window with curtains opened wide as she sipped tea and munched a scone. “Constance?”

“Lizzy, darling!” she smiled and swept from her seat to bound closer. “Oh, come in and tell me everything!”

Constance dragged her through the door and swung it shut behind her, nearly catching the last few of Lizzy’s trailing feathers. “Constance? Are you… alright?”

Lizzy hadn’t imagined it, of that she was sure. The air still stung her nose with the latent scent of anguish. But Constance appeared wholly fine and well, if a bit red around the eyes.

“Lizzy, I have decided to say, kiss my foot, Mr. Barnes. He may be my alpha, but if he doesn’t want me, I most certainly do not want him. At this point, I think I may entertain Mr. Bailey’s offer and stop foolishly thinking I will ever have what mother and father, and you and the,” she sniffed and giggled, “evidently cuddly Colonel will have, and resign myself to a marriage of convenience.”

“Constance! Don’t you dare!” Lizzy barked. “We can fix this. I swear! Steven and I will make this right.”

Constance waved a dismissive hand. “Why bother? He doesn’t want me. He made that quite clear.”

“It’s not what you think! It’s not you he doesn’t want. He doesn’t think he can be the alpha you need!”

“Balderdash! He’s an alpha. I am- I was his omega. How hard is that to understand? We were meant to be, but now we are not. I refuse to pine for someone who does not want me.”

She thumped herself back down on her chair in haughty silence, but no matter how hard she tried, Constance’s scent betrayed just how badly she felt about herself. “Oh, Connie…” Lizzy whispered and rushed forward to wrap her arms around her friend right before she burst back into tears.

“Stop it, Lizzy!” she sobbed. “I was fine! I am fine! Stop making me cry!”

“You’re not fine. But we will fix it. I will fix it. Somehow.” She had no idea how, but she knew they had to make Lord Barnes see reason.

***

Natasha stepped away from the door where Steve’s omega tried her best to comfort the one who should be snuggled up with Barnes. “Bucky you daft idiot,” she grumbled softly and made her way away from the girl's room.

She needed to get to Steve, find out what the plan was, and get things set in motion. If Miss Stark was foolish enough to accept another offer and Barnes found out, it would only be a matter of time before his alpha drove him from the house to kill whoever stood between him and his omega.

Bucky may not like it, he may not want it, but he was a Warlord Alpha. Eventually, biology would win out, and he would have blood on his hands and an omega he now had to both win and soothe after what would likely be highly traumatic.

When Barnes had come home, she’d already seen it starting. Bucky was angry and ashamed, livid and disgusted with himself. Red rimmed his eyes and that metallic tinge of metal which preceded an alpha running feral was just starting to ting on her tongue. No one knew better than she that smell. She’d lived with it the first half of her life when they’d trained her to be what she was.

A killer. An assassin. A spy.

And a damn good one until the day she’d gone after Rogers, and he’d been there. Damn Barton and his scent like cookies. He'd smelled so delicious; she had tripped over the rug and landed practically in his lap.

He still liked to tease that she’d been so enamoured of him, she’d fallen at his feet. She still threatened to stab him every time he brought it up. It was cute, and she loved it, not that she let anyone else know, but he did. Beta’s may not mate like alphas and omegas, may not have the same urges, drives, and instincts, but she'd known with one breath where she belonged.

If there was one thing she’d figured out over the years, it was Steve’s weyr wasn’t made up of ordinary folk.

Even her Hawkeye’d mate was unique in his skills. He never missed. Half the time he didn’t even have to look to take down what he aimed at. At least that way they never starved if they had to be out in the wilderness for a while. Clint kept all their bellies full, no problem.

Theirs was a band of misfits, and she loved every one of them.

Footsteps had her sliding into a window alcove and back into the shadows where she let her wings cover her, and she disappeared. A peek through a couple of feathers showed her the man named Jarvis, Stark’s beta, a most… unusual fellow. He was very calm. What some would call unexcitable, but Natasha knew his type.

He would be ferocious in his defence of those he served because he loved them. The Starks were his family. There was nothing he would not do to protect what he loved.

He paused, and she remained still. He frowned, and she calmed her heart. He looked directly at her hiding place, and Natasha held her breath. His frowned deepened, he squinted a little, then shook his head and walked on.

Once his footsteps faded, Natasha let her wings relax and moved cautiously down the hall once more. It had been some time since someone had noticed whatever subtle difference her vanishing act created. Perhaps Steve’s weyr was not the only one that collected a few oddities.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Medical blood and a little gore

## Chapter Seven

* * *

The three days for Lizzy went by in a blur. Her mornings were spent with Natasha who proved to be as lovely on the inside as she was on the outside. Lizzy quite adored her wit and her sharp intelligence, and when Constance foolishly decided to entertain suitors, Natasha was there to run interference. The redhead simply had a way about her the males couldn’t resist, allowing Constance to appear unaffected by Lord Barnes’ rejection while maintaining a distance from the alphas in the room she didn’t want to be around.

Lizzy coaxed her into tea and rounds of needlepoint, an activity Constance loved that Lizzy abhorred, but it made her friend happy if only for a time. Natasha’s presence and calm manner did wonders to soothe both Lizzy’s nerves about Steven’s weyr as well as act a balm for Constance’s bruised feelings. By the afternoon of the second day, Natasha had convinced Constance to come to the Earl’s estate for a change of scenery as well as the upcoming ball.

Though Constance wasn’t thrilled with the idea, knowing he would be there, Steven assured her Lord Barnes would make himself scarce or suffer the wrath of the Warlord Alpha. The Colonel would tolerate no disrespect of her person while the omega was visiting his home.

Of course, convincing Uncle Stark had been even more challenging. Tony wouldn’t have it. His daughter had been through more than enough without having to entertain the idea of seeing Barnes again, but Lizzy had begged for his agreement. She didn’t want to make this journey to the weyr that would one day be her home without her best friend and nestmate at her side.

Pepper had added her weight to Lizzy’s argument, secured an invitation to the forthcoming ball from Steve for the Starks, and instructed Jarvis to accompany them long before Tony had finished grumbling and agreed. It was a begrudging agreement, one given after Natasha had stepped in and sworn on her life she would protect Constance from any harm, including Lord Barnes should he choose to do something stupid.

Steve had appeared surprised, then fearful with the woman’s words. Though only a beta, Natasha was quite the formidable fighter, one it seemed even the Warlord Alpha was uninclined to upset.

With the details settled, Elizabeth focused on getting to know the intense and intimidating alpha. Soft and kind and gentle with her, Lizzy hadn’t noticed the reaction others had to Steven until the final afternoon before their departure when she’d invited him to join her in the Landed village.

The weather had held, allowing the sun to warm the earth and fill the air with lazy currents and light breezes. Fluffy white clouds dotted the vibrant blue sky. Fields of wheat and meadows of grass swayed with the wind. The rustle of the leaves and the quiet of the countryside with only the birds in the trees and the whiny of the horses in the pastures to break the silence lent peace to the land.

Steve walked at her side without his cane and very little limp. The concoction of herbs Lizzy had been applying to his leg had worked wonders, reducing the inflammation and shrinking the wound drastically. The praise he’d showered her with had, of course, set Lizzy blushing and embarrassed her, ending with her fumbling to wrap the wound before bed the night before.

After, the Colonel had been most insistent on showing his gratitude, which was how he’d wound up between Lizzy’s thighs with her fingers clenched in his hair as he’d shown her such exquisite pleasure she’d cried herself hoarse. The memory alone was enough to fill her belly with warmth and make it ache.

“And just what are you thinking of, Elizabeth to have you smelling so sweet?” Steve asked, his head bent and mouth close to her ear.

A blush burned her cheeks. “Don't tease me, Steven,” she murmured, casting a glance back at Natasha, strolling along with Constance, looking quite different than usual.

Instead of a high waisted day dress, Natasha wore black leather pants, a tight waistcoat, and dark brocade corset over a deep red blouse. With her hair braided back, pistols tucked at waist and thigh, and a sword on her hip she appeared more pirate than peerage.

But she was Steven's beta, and with him being wounded, she'd insisted if they were going to the Landed village, she would be accompanying them as an escort and added protection. Steve had rolled his eyes but hadn’t protested her company when Constance also asked to come along. Knowing it was the Landed’s market day, a good day to spread around a little extra coin, Constance often went with Lizzy on her visits. But with her strained wing, the added protection of Natasha was welcome.

Not that Lizzy expected trouble. They'd often visited the Landed without escort, but they could both also fly away if need be. Constance’s wing would no longer allow for an easy escape.

Still, the walk was pleasant, the distance short, and gave Lizzy the chance to bring along a satchel with her many tonics.

“When I tease you, Elizabeth, such a pretty wash of colour comes to your cheeks I can't help but long to see it again,” Steve said, his smile coy.

Further colour darkened her cheeks. “Yes, well, be that as it may, I have no desire to have my inner urges made known to our companions.”

A large gold wing curled around her, sheltering her from the view of the women following. “I would never embarrass you, sweet dove, but I would hear more of these… _urges_.”

She huffed and lightly swatted his arm. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

“Yes, but I like it when you speak of them, Elizabeth, and when you tell me all about your secret, seductive longings. I will fulfill each and every one,” he whispered in her ear causing Lizzy to shiver and the warmth in her belly to smoulder into heat.

“Steven,” she whimpered softly and clutched at her abdomen. “You need to stop.”

“I do not want to,” he growled, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her up and keep them walking. “With each passing day, your scent deepens. It grows thicker with the most delicious honey. It intoxicates me. I am drunk on it. Soon, Elizabeth, I think your heat will be upon us.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “It's too soon!”

“I don't think that matters. Your body knows I'm yours. It makes itself ready for me.” He dipped his head and let his nose linger over her scent gland. “Another week, perhaps ten days and you will be in heat.”

Lizzy had no idea how he managed to walk, keep her walking, speak, and nuzzle her throat all without tripping over his feet. “Then I suppose it is a good thing we leave for your weyr tomorrow,” she said quietly, loving the feel of his lips on her skin.

“The idea of you in my home…” He purred a rumble of sound, deep and rich. “I can hardly contain myself.”

“Well, you’ll have to a little longer. We’re near the village,” Lizzy gave him a small push for propriety’s sake and returned her arm to his elbow when he released her waist.

He looked quite the alpha today in his dark waistcoat, breeches, and boots. He’d forgone his hat, allowing the wind to ruffle his golden curls, shades lighter than his wings which appeared to shimmer in the bright sunshine. Lizzy had a hard time not staring. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. Then he’d look at her with his sky blue eyes, and she’d feel her heart flutter, unable to believe he was real and not some fae creature she’d dreamed up.

He chuckled softly, as if reading her thoughts, and paused at the top of the rise to look down on the Landed village spread out in the valley between two hills. Houses of wood and stone and shops of the same sat shoulder and hip together, while plots of land surrounded the area, all filled and growing with a variety of vegetables. Farther out were fields dotted with cattle, sheep, and a few horses. Flocks of geese waddled where they wished, while chickens pecked and scratched in the dirt.

“Bigger than I expected,” Steve murmured.

“The layout is interesting,” Natasha said, arriving at Steve’s side. “More in keeping with a winged city than your typical Landed village.”

“Father helped with the construction,” Constance said. “I’m afraid my grandfather was one of those who believed Landeds were no better than cattle. They lived in shacks and scratched out an existence not fit for animals before he died and Father became Lord here. The first thing he did was provide lumber for housing and animals for their keeping. He let the Landeds grow their food instead of taking what was barely fit for consumption from his fields.”

“They’re not taxed on any of this?” Natasha asked in surprise.

“No,” Lizzy smiled. “All he asked in return was they cared for his lands with the same attention they would their own. Uncle Stark’s fields and livestock are some of the highest producing in the land because of it. The Landeds take pride in their work, and though their actual pay for work is slightly less, they do not need to spend their hard-earned wages on food, so they prosper as does their village.”

“That’s… ingenious,” Steve murmured.

“He also taught them about irrigation and helped build a series of small creeks through their plots, no different than what is on his fields, and they’ve learned to rotate their crops as Father does to help with soil fertility,” Constance said proudly.

Steve glanced her way. “It seems I should be discussing more than just your father’s inventions with him, Miss Stark.”

“Father’s brain is very busy,” she agreed with a small laugh. “I think he invents things even when he is sleeping.”

They started down the road together toward the village where people bustled along the main thoroughfare. Quite a few people had set up tables of wares for purchase, and while it was a Landed village, there were also many winged people in attendance looking and buying from the different items for sale.

Of course, once they arrived on the outskirts of the village, Thomas the village’s leader, hurried forward to greet them. “Lady Stark, Lady Heartright. You honour us with your visit.”

“Thomas,” Lizzy said when he bowed to the group. “This is Colonel Rogers, the Earl of Denton, and his beta, Natasha Romanoff.”

The man took one look at Steve’s wings and dropped his eyes to the ground. “Milord, milady.” He bowed to them both. “Be welcome in our village. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

“Be at ease, Thomas,” Steve said, a gentle brush of _Will_ flowing over them all. “Elizabeth has been most vocal about your village. I can see why that is. It’s quite unique.”

“Thank you, milord. We’re proud of it and grateful to Lord Stark for his support,” Thomas said, glancing up before looking nervously away.

Lizzy frowned, finding his behaviour odd. The man wasn’t usually so meek. “Is Rosalee about today?” she asked.

“In the usual spot, miss,” Thomas nodded.

Finding it all very strange, Lizzy thanked him and walked on, heading for Rosalee’s usual place while Constance and Natasha took a more winding route when other items for sale caught their attention. It wasn’t until they were a few feet down the road she noticed the way men and women parted for them, the Landeds hurrying to the side.

She glanced up at Steve. The Warlord Alpha appeared relaxed, but his sharp blue eyes took in everything, sweeping back and forth along the road, up into the houses and along the storefronts. With his wings arched up behind him, he looked twice his size, enormous and formidable and very intimidating.

Lizzy poked him in the ribs. “You’re making the people nervous.”

“Good,” he said, looking down at her when she gave a surprised gasp. “You are my omega, Elizabeth. This village is unknown to me. Though there is little chance anyone could or would try to injure you here, I am still prepared to defend you at a moments notice. If the need was there, I would put this entire village on its knees in a heartbeat. They are also aware of that fact.”

She slowed to stop and placed her hands on his chest. “Please, alpha. Not with Rosalee. She’s my friend.”

“Omega,” he growled, eyes far harsher than Lizzy had ever seen.

“Please, Steven. I don’t want her frightened when she’s been nothing but kind to me,” Lizzy murmured, curling her fingers into his jacket.

He sighed, but some of the stiffness went out of his wings, and they softened down his back. “Fine, but only her, Elizabeth.”

Lizzy smiled brightly up at him. “Thank you, alpha.”

He chuffed a little sound, one similar to what her father would make when she exasperated him into giving in to her demands that made Lizzy giggle as she turned and hurried toward her friend and the colourful tapestries blowing in the breeze.

“Rosalee!” Lizzy called out and waved.

The woman’s eyes light up when she smiled. “Miss Elizabeth!” Her smile wavered a little when her attention shifted to the alpha with Lizzy. “Milord,” she nodded politely.

“Miss,” Steve tilted his head to her.

“I have the most wonderful news, Rosalee!” Lizzy said, grasping her hands. “I’ve found my alpha.”

“Oh, Miss Elizabeth! I’m so happy for you!” Rosalee exclaimed and held out her arms.

Lizzy went into them without hesitation, hugging Rosalee with enthusiasm. “Colonel Steven Rogers, the Earl of Denton,” she said, pulling back to smile up at Steven. “My Golden Devil.”

Rosalee dropped a curtsey. “A pleasure, milord.”

“Elizabeth speaks well of you,” he said with a nod toward her tapestries. “And of your talent with weaving. These are exquisite.”

A bright flush filled the woman’s cheeks. “Thank you, milord. I do my best.”

“How’s George doing?” Lizzy asked.

Rosalee smiled. “He’s right as rain since you brought that tonic. No more coughing.”

“Excellent,” Lizzy giggled. “And the babe?”

Rosalee pressed her hands to the small swell of her belly. “Growing a little more each day.”

“May I?” Elizabeth asked, holding out her hand for Rosalee’s. The woman gave it with a smile, and Lizzy brought Rosalee’s wrist to her nose. She inhaled deeply, looking for anything that smelled abnormal, and smiled when she found only the sweet smell of the woman and the deeper summer scent of her babe. “Perfect.”

“Good,” Rosalee smiled. “The midwife says the same, but I feel better knowing you agree.”

“Elizabeth?” Steve murmured.

Confusion laced her name, and Lizzy looked up to find him peering at her curiously. “Rosalee has lost her babe twice before this one. Both times I could smell the change in the babe’s scent before it happened. This time,” she smiled at Rosalee, “I think everything will be just fine.” Lizzy patted her hand.

“I pray you’re right,” Rosalee said, her hands returning to her belly. “George… he was so devastated these past two times.”

Lizzy reached out and hugged Rosalee a second time. “You’ll be a wonderful mother, Rosalee dear.”

“Thank you, Miss Lizzy,” she whispered, darting a glance at Steve with her informal address.

Soft and warm, his Will swept gently over them. Lizzy looked up to find him smiling, his blue eyes twinkling and a mischievous smile on his face. “Perhaps your friend would be so inclined as to sell me a few of her wares?” Steve murmured, indicating two of the more intricate patterns hanging on stands around them.

Rosalee beamed, and Lizzy stepped back to watch her alpha charm the landed woman, and pay nearly twice Rosalee’s asking price for her wares. Intimidating he may be, but Steven was also proving himself to be a very good man.

***

Steve had a difficult time relaxing in the Landed village. For one, it wasn't _his_ village, and for all Elizabeth's assurances it was a safe place, she was still his omega. Unmated as they were with her soft scent of ink and roses on the air, his alpha was at its most dangerous.

The Landeds didn't bother him. What was the power of the Landed when it came to the _Will_ of a Warlord Alpha? No, it was the other alphas in attendance who set him on edge. None were of his calibre, but that meant little to the instincts inside him urging him to entice Elizabeth out of there and rut her into the nearest soft surface until his mark silvered her throat and his hatchling grew in her belly.

Until that happened, she was vulnerable, and while alphas no longer fought like animals over omegas, that didn’t subdue the instincts inside him to protect and claim what was his. The longer they were in close proximity to all these people with only Natasha for backup, the closer Steve moved to the edge of his tolerance.

But he didn’t want to upset her by being overbearing and acting the feral beast, so he swallowed his tension, stuck close to her side, and bought small gifts and trinkets for the people of his weyr.

The Landeds here made a candy out of honey he’d never seen before and bought enough to share between the fledglings of his weyr. A beautifully carved rattle he picked up for Cassie, Scott and Hope’s new hatchling. There were ribbons and cloth which would put to shame the finest weaves in the grandest of winged cities.

Natasha’s eyes lit up at a burgundy brocade he added to his ever-growing pile of goods to be delivered to Starks. The redhead liked clothing, it was her one vice, and buying fabric for his beta was never a hardship.

Then a woman Elizabeth name Corrin hurried up to her, begging for his omega’s assistance, and she was off in a flurry of feathers.

“Elizabeth!” he called out, but she was rushing away, clearly in a hurry. Steve looked to Natasha, watching from her position beside Constance. She gave a nod, and Steve took to the sky in a single push of wings which sent dust swirling down the road.

A few wingbeats later, he landed heavily in front of the two women, wings spread and scowl on his face. “Elizabeth, you do not rush off without me like that. Now, tell me what’s wrong?”

“Steven, I don’t have the time! There’s been an accident with Jeffrey, Corrin’s boy.”

She made to go around him, but when his wings were nearly as wide as the street they stood on, he made it rather impossible. “Omega!” he growled in warning. “You don’t run off without me.”

Lizzy walked right up to him, her wings flaring high and wide as the woman, Corrin, cowered back from them both. “At the moment there is a boy who needs me more than I need to bow to your instincts. Now, you are welcome to accompany me, but if you do not get out of my way that boy may very well die, and I will not forgive you for holding me back.”

_Worry_ and _fear_ flowed with the scent of her _determination_ and Steve realized he was behaving like a territorial ass, but he didn’t like her disappearing from his side as she had. Still, he stepped back, folded his wings, and motioned for her to lead. That they would be discussing it later was implied in both his posture and his scent.

The Landed woman hurried past him with her head down, the _distress_ pouring off her very real. When they turned down a side lane, travelled past a few more houses, and turned again, Steve could smell it on the wind.

Blood. Lots of it.

Elizabeth raced for the door and rushed inside where the sound of a boy crying could be heard. Corrin followed, wringing her hands. Steve stepped to the doorway and growled low and deep. There were too many people in the small, square room. Then his gaze landed on the white-faced boy laying on the table with the axe in his shoulder.

“Jeffrey,” Lizzy was saying to the boy, her hand on his forehead. “Be still, alright? As still as you can.” He gave a weak nod. “Someone tell me how this happened.”

Everyone started to speak at once. Steve snarled, and silence fell over the room. “Who was with the boy when this happened?” Another boy, perhaps three years older held up his hand. “The parents of Jeffrey and you may stay. Everyone else, get out.” He ducked into the room beneath the low doorway and moved aside, closer to Elizabeth as she began cutting away the boy’s clothing.

The other Landeds left quickly, the brush of his _Will_ sending them scurrying out the door. “What is your name, son?” he asked the terrified looking boy.

“William, milord.” He bowed, fidgeting with the hat clenched in his hands.

“What happened, William?”

“We… we were cutting wood. I was tired and, and frustrated because… because Jeff was being a pest, bugging me and wanting to try. But father said he’s too young, so I said no. Then the axe got stuck. I pulled and pulled, and Jeff was teasing me about being weak. I got mad and pulled extra hard, and the axe slipped from my hands…”

By then he’d started to cry, _remorse_ and _regret_ in his scent, and Steve nodded, seeing it for the horrible accident it was. Lizzy was reaching for the axe when Steve grabbed her wrist. “Do not touch it.”

“Steven!” she snapped, her eyes full of anger with his interference.

“Omega,” he purred softly, “I’ve seen similar wounds on the battlefield. If the axe has hit a major vessel, the boy will bleed out and die. As there is much blood lost already, we can assume this is a fact.”

“I’m aware. But if it stays in, he dies. If it comes out, he dies. I need to have a closer look. Then, I will need your gunpowder.”

“Elizabeth,” he murmured, knowing what she was planning.

“There is no other way. The bleeding must be stopped.” She turned to the woman and what must be her husband huddled together off to the side. “Corrin, David. I want you to go outside with William.”

“You will need help, milady,” the man, David, said.

“I will assist her. Believe me, you do not want to watch what happens next,” Steve said, adding enough of his _Will_ to make them submit. “Send someone to the market and find Lady Constance Stark and her companion. Inform Miss Romanoff of my request for her to escort Miss Stark home. If she protests, tell her Colonel Rogers said it was an order.”

David’s eyes widened in understanding before bowing. “Yes, milord.”

“William, stoke the fire, add wood, then out you go,” Elizabeth ordered the boy as she removed the satchel from her shoulder and began pulling small jars and pouches from within. “Steven, water.”

Steve shrugged out of his coat as the boy did her bidding and rushed from the house. The entire time her quiet presence lay over the room, keeping the terrified, exhausted, and hurting child calm. As he rolled up his sleeves, he watched her lean over and whisper to the boy, her hand gentle on his forehead. Steve set a bucket of water near her and used the ladle within to gently wash the boy’s wound, rinsing the blood away.

Angry and red, the wound looked terrible, and the scent of rot was already present. “Elizabeth, it must happen soon.” The boy’s heart was growing weaker with every beat.

“Miss Lizzy,” the boy whispered. “Am I gonna die?”

“Not if I can help it, Jeffrey.”

Steve appreciated how she didn’t promise him he’d live. Those empty promises had been spoken all too often to men dying around him. They were never believed, and the words eventually sounded so hollow.

Lizzy worked quickly to dry the area around the axe, her touch gentle but sure. She didn’t flinch at the blood, didn’t hesitate, just worked tirelessly and without stopping as she prepared for what was coming next.

“Alright, Jeffrey,” she said softly. “This is going to hurt a lot. I’m sorry for that, but if it works, the bleeding will stop. Bite down on this for me.” Lizzy tucked the handle of a wooden spoon between the boy’s teeth.

_Fear_ poured into the air as tears began to roll down the boy’s cheeks. Steve leaned a little closer and set his hand on the boy’s hair. “Jeffrey, look at me,” he said, lacing his voice with his Will. “You’re a brave boy. You focus on me.”

Steve wrapped his hand around the head of the axe, aware of Elizabeth without having to look at her. When she gave a small nod, he laid his _Will_ on the boy with all his might, holding the child down without having to use his hands, and jerked the weapon from Jeffrey’s flesh. Blood spurted up, but Elizabeth was there, dumping the gunpowder in the wound and lighting it with a small burning branch.

Jeffrey screamed and fainted, going limp on the table. The scent of burning flesh filled the air, and Steve looked down to find the blood was still seeping from the wound. “It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s why I have this,” Lizzy murmured, pressing a red-hot knife into the wound.

The sizzling sound had Steve’s stomach lurching, but when she pulled the blade away, the bleeding had stopped. She continued to work, mixing her concoctions and slathering the paste over the boy’s burned flesh. Then she turned to look for strips of linen to cover and bind the boy’s injury, grew frustrated when nothing appeared and shot a glance at Steve.

“Don’t scold me for this,” she grumbled before gathering the front of her dress up and tearing the skirt of her petticoat from beneath.

Steve blinked once but could only chuckle when he helped her tear the soft fabric into strips and bind the boy’s wound. “I must say, I’ve heard of women ripping strips from their shift, but that was the first time I’ve seen it in person.”

“I’ve ruined more dresses that way, but it is often quicker, cleaner, and easier than calling someone in to find their bandages and dressings,” she murmured, checking the boy over before beginning to clean up.

“Lizzy, you don’t have to do that,” Steve said, taking the rag from her hand.

“His mother has been through enough without seeing the aftermath of my impromptu surgery,” she snapped and grabbed for the cloth.

Steve held it out of her reach. “Omega,” he purred. “I meant I would do it. You should sit for a moment, wash your hands. I’m certain you will have instructions for the mother. Take a minute and gather your thoughts.”

She appeared surprised before turning away to do as he’d suggested, though she never did sit down. Steve did what he could to remove much of the blood from the table, clean the knife she’d used to cauterize the boy’s wound, and removed the rest of the boy’s shirt from his body. Once he was through, Steve gently lifted the boy and used his nose to find the child’s bed, down a short hall, near the back of the home.

Lizzy was standing before the table staring at the fire when he returned, and Steve used the last of the clean water to wash his hands and arms and dry off before moving toward her and cupping her nape in his hand. “Elizabeth. That was amazing.”

Her face crumbled, the stress finally setting in. She sobbed once, a soft little gasp and buried her face in his chest. Steve held her and let her shake, and breathe, and whimper against him, but when she lifted her head a few minutes later, he found her eyes dry and her face unmarred by tears. “I’ve never had help before,” she murmured.

“I’ve watched army surgeons with less skill than you, ‘mega,” he purred, lowering his head to nuzzle his nose along her jaw. “You are incredible.” His mouth found hers in a slow, soft kiss he poured all his adoration into.

She moaned quietly into his mouth and clutched at his chest as her wings slipped down her back. “Alpha,” she breathed against his lips.

“The family grows restless,” he sighed, wanting nothing more than to sink into her and never let go. “Call them in, Elizabeth. Give them their instructions; then we will return home.”

Lizzy nodded and went to the door as Steve shrugged into his coat, shifting his wings until the panels lay where they belonged. He listened as she went over what the family needed to do for the injured boy. She had herbs to make tea for pain. Poultices to prevent infection. And even another herb to add to the water when they washed out the bandages. She gave her instructions, made Corrin repeat them back to her, then went with the woman to check on Jeffrey a final time before they left.

Steve waited off to the side, well aware he made David and his elder son uncomfortable. “Miss Heartright will be leaving with me tomorrow to visit my weyr prior to our mating,” he said softly, eyeing the man. “Should your boy need her, send to the Starks, and they will send on to us. We are not so far by the wing and can return if needed.”

“Thank you, milord,” David said, bowing deeply, surprise in his scent. “Miss Heartright has been very kind to us Landed. Her knowledge is invaluable.”

“Have you no healer of your own?” Steve asked, curious as to why a healer hadn’t arrived.

“Our healer was called away to the village a county over. Maria has learned much from Miss Heartright and has developed a reputation for her way of healing. She has a young apprentice, but the girl had gone with her, or we would not have been so desperate for your lady’s help.”

“I see,” Steve nodded his understanding. “Your boy did well. He is strong.” He looked at Lizzy returning down the hall with a quietly weeping Corrin. “Darling?”

“He’s resting. Let him sleep, keep the wound clean and change the poultice as I instructed and Jeffrey will live. The tea for the pain will make him sleep. Let him. Do not rush him to be up and about. I’ll return when I can to check on him.”

“I’ve informed them to send to my weyr through the Starks if you are needed, Elizabeth,” Steve said, holding out his hand.

“Maria will have the herbs you need if you run out,” Lizzy said tiredly, lifting her satchel to her shoulder.

“Thank you, milady,” Corrin sobbed. “May the Gods bless you and your mate.”

“Corrin. David. William, be more careful next time and have patience with Jeffrey. He is your brother,” Lizzy smiled and headed out the door, Steve’s guiding hand on her back.

Dusk was falling when they left the house and Steve shifted his hand to hers. “Are you alright to fly home? It will be quicker.”

“I’ll make it,” Lizzy assured him. “I’m tired, but I’m too hungry to fall asleep on the wing.”

Steve’s stomach growled and made him chuckle. “It appears I could also stand to eat. Come, my talented dove. Fly with me.”

Her smoky eyes sparkled when she spread her wings and pushed off, Steve hot on her primaries.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, fluff, NSFW  
> This chapter brought to you by the wonderful @shy-violet-soul through Coffee Updates. Thank you for your support!

## Chapter Eight

* * *

The glass of brandy in his hand went unnoticed as Steve waited patiently before the fire in his room for his omega to join him. Tonight was their last night together in a weyr not his own. The idea of returning home with her, of showing her the land and the people, the house, his hoard, and his studio, it sent a possessive thrill through Steve's body.

Soon she would be in a place he could fully relax, with people who would adore her as much as Steve did.

She would come to love his home. Though the manor was large, Steve's mother had worked hard to make it a warm and inviting place. Of course, Lizzy would have free reign to change whatever didn't suit her.

Steve had no doubt there would be fabrics and designers and workmen underfoot, but not until after they were mated. He wasn’t having anyone he didn’t trust implicitly running around his home until after Elizabeth was beneath the protection of his wing wearing his mark.

The door opened behind him, Lizzy coming in without knocking, bringing with her the scent of roses and ink. It pleased him she didn’t feel the need to ask for entrance into his room. He wanted her comfortable with the idea what was his would soon be hers. She didn’t need to ask for something he offered freely. Her quiet steps across the room brought with her the warm scent of her bath. She’d required one after coming home covered in the young boy’s blood.

Her family had gushed and fussed, the Lady Pepper and Miss Constance marching her off to help her bathe and get cleaned up. Steve had eaten quietly with Natasha who’d done an excellent job of showing her displeasure at being dismissed from his side by remaining frostily detached when he sought to converse with her until he began to describe the incredible talent he’d witnessed.

Elizabeth’s skills were beyond compare. He could only imagine what she could do with the proper teacher and equipment.

All such thoughts fled his mind when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her forehead on the bare skin between his wings.

“Thank you for your help today. You’re a good man, Steven.”

He could feel the brush of her breath over his flesh right before her soft lips made contact. He decided it was prudent to place his brandy on the mantel rather than drop the glass. Such pleasure moved through him from that single point of contact, it had his eyes closing and a soft purr erupting from his chest. Her fingertips slipped over the ridges of his abdomen, leaving behind trails of warmth. Then her tongue licked a path of fire straight up his spine where her teeth, sharp, pointed canines nipped firmly into his shoulder.

Steve captured her hands and held them flush to his body. “Omega.” She was playing with fire tonight. Already her scent was clouding his nose, drowning him in sweet honey and burning roses.

“You should sit down, alpha. Let me check that wound of yours.” Her hands slipped out from beneath his lax ones, lightly brushing along his ribs and the waistband of his pants.

She moved away, and Steve turned to watch her walk with an enticing sway to her hips and pretty curl of her wings toward the medicinal chest she’d left in his room. He’d expected a pink and white nightdress, as that seemed to be her standard, but the deep blue silk looked incredible scooped low beneath her wings. Even the bow of the tie across her shoulders appeared to be made to entice him, tempt him to reach out and pull the string which dangled against her bare skin so he could send the silk cascading down her body.

She must have discarded her robe the moment she’d entered for it hung over the back of a chair allowing Steve to admire her scant attire, her bare arms, and the slightly damp braid which hung over her shoulder and darkened the silk. When she turned back toward him with the box, he could see the press of her nipples through the fabric, and how the damp patch clung to her. There was a sultry look to her gray eyes and fangs indented her plump lip.

“Omega?”

“You still have your pants on, alpha,” she purred, her wings fluttering just enough to make the rainbows ripple through her feathers.

Her scent spiked and red began to wash through Steve’s vision. It was an act. A seduction. Leading up to what, he didn’t yet know, but he broke a button getting his pants off. They fell to the floor, and he stepped out of them having removed his boots earlier. Steve settled to the settee like he had these last few nights and looked to Elizabeth.

She dropped a pillow on the floor and tugged the front of her gown up as she knelt between Steve’s spread thighs. Soft, tender hands unwrapped his binding and removed the old cloth. She hummed softly, clearly pleased with the results as the wound was pink, the swelling gone, and the scent of rot no longer present. “A few more days and you should be good as new.”

“Thanks to your talented hands, ‘mega,” Steve purred, enjoying the view far more than he should be, acknowledged by the growing tent in his undergarments.

Lizzy placed her concoction of herbs on his thigh, covered it with a pad, and wrapped the wound, and did so with far more touching than Steve thought truly necessary. Every skim of her nails over him was torture. Every caress of finger pads like a velvet whip on his skin, lashing pleasure straight to his cock. She tied off the bandage but didn’t move, her hands resting gently on his thigh. “Alpha?”

Here the nerves exploded, the acrid scent overpowering her roses. “What is it, Elizabeth?”

“You were so… wonderful today,” she whispered, peering up at him. Her thumbs rubbed one small circle before she shifted enough to place one hand on each of his thighs. “I’m sorry I ran off without explaining what was happening. I won’t do it again.”

“Elizabeth,” Steve purred, rubbing his knuckles over her cheek, then laid his hand upon it. “I understand the event was time sensitive. And I can see know the skill you have and the way the Landeds rely on and defer to you. Should there be a next time, I won’t be so hesitant to let you go, but I insist you tell me first. If something happened to you because I was not aware of where you’d gone or what you were about, it would be devastating. I love you, omega. You’re my focus above all else.”

“Alpha.” She rubbed her cheek against his palm, her eyes shadowed by her lashes. “I want… I mean… I wish…”

The heat of her blush warmed his hand. “Want what, darling?”

“I want…” she swallowed thickly, “to please you as you have me.”

“Elizabeth?” She couldn't possibly be implying what he thought she was.

“I… I want to touch you.” Her hands crept slowly upward until her fingers dipped beneath the fabric of his undergarment. “I want to see you, alpha. Touch you. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel today, standing at my side. Your faith in me… only Constance has ever believed in me like that. Most winged folk think I'm a silly omega playing at being a doctor. Our Landeds know better, but I've never… you're the first not to scoff and tell me to let another handle it.”

“And for that, you want to do this?” Heart pounding, Steve's cock went hard as iron.

“You made me feel… powerful. An omega on her knees pleasing her alpha does the same, does it not?”

“Very much so,” Steve purred.

Her hands skimmed higher to rest gently on his hips. “I want to see you, alpha. I want to… I want to touch you.”

He hadn’t known it was possible to grow harder than iron. “Love… you’re killing me.”

“Is that permission, Steven?”

Her eyes sparkled. Blue lights gleamed in the black of her ink-dark hair. Pink flushed the cream from her cheeks. She was beautiful, and when she reached for the ties on his undergarments, he didn’t stop her.

There was a slight tremble to her fingers, but she didn’t let the nerves detract from her desire to see his garments removed. The ties pulled through her hands, her touch soft and gentle and without hesitation.

When finally the ties were free, Elizabeth brushed the placard away. A sound somewhere between a moan and a growl escaped her. A noise of want and desire. It made Steve’s heart race, the beat throbbing through his loins.

She licked her lips and gave a quiet purr. “That’s… not what I expected.”

Steve chuckled softly. “And what did you expect, my dove?”

“I don’t know, but nothing so… big.”

Pride filled him. Perhaps it shouldn’t, but Steve couldn’t help it. His omega looked at him with longing, he could smell the rise of pheromones around her, and lust darkened her gray eyes. He reached for her hand and brought it to wrap around him, his _Will_ flowing around her encouragingly.

“So warm and soft. Like velvet over iron,” she whispered, peering up at him in surprise.

“You’ve felt it between your legs and against your belly before now, love. It can’t be that much of a shock.” How he managed to form words when her curious fingers walked over his flesh Steve had no idea.

The gentle touch seared through him. It made him ache and strain to be still, not pump his hips into her hand. Her second joined the first without his encouragement, wrapping around him one above the other.

“I can barely close my fingers,” she murmured, touching him with reverent excitement. “I know, theoretically, it’s supposed to fit, but you are,” here red filled her face, “most blessed. I’m skeptical.”

“It’ll fit, love,” he gasped when her hands moved over him, stroking in a smooth up and down with a slight twist. “Gods, ‘mega. You have good instincts.” Never had a female stroked his cock and made his blood sing with such inexperienced hands. A drop of moisture beaded on the tip with her action.

“I… read a book once about an omega who took her alpha in her mouth. She seemed to like the taste of him. With how good you smell, Steven, with how your skin tastes on my tongue, I can only imagine you’ll taste even better here.” She squeezed him gently with both hands and made Steve moan.

“You’re welcome to find out, Elizabeth,” he purred, wrapping her damp braid around his fist.

She sat forward and lowered her head slowly, her eyes on his, but instead of licking the tip of his cock like he expected her to, she brought her nose to the base and inhaled. Steve watched the tint of red surround her irises. Her arousal was strong in his nose. The flat of her tongue pressed to the root of his cock and licked slowly upward until her lips closed around him in a sinful kiss.

“Fuck, Elizabeth,” Steve moaned, wanting to let his head fall back but unable to look away. Then the warm wet pass of her tongue over his sensitive glands had his eyes rolling back in his head. “By the Gods!” He gave her hair an unexpected tug, but more burning roses, sultry and tempting bloomed around her in response. “That’s it, love,” he groaned.

She took him in inch by inch, leaving Steve gasping and clawing at the settee until her lips connected with the hand she’d left wrapped around his base. The slow sucking motion she made on the return damn near blew his head off.

He forgot how to breathe, think, move in the next few moments. The slow, sinful feel of her mouth, the flick of her tongue and dangerous drag of sharp little fangs all heightened his pleasure. Steve wrapped his wings around her, closing them in a dark cave of soft feathers where scent became magnified, and firelight flickered through the gold of his wings, casting soft shadows over her porcelain skin.

When she slid off him with a pop, Steve had red coat his vision. “Omega.”

“Am I doing it right?” she asked all innocent curiosity.

He looked down at her, her mouth wet and lips shiny. Plump and soft and pouting. Her cheeks were flushed and eyes fever bright. “Yes, Elizabeth. Very right.”

“Good,” she purred. Her eyes locked with his, she licked him up and around and all over like he was a sweet she couldn’t get enough of. “You’re welcome to assist me, alpha. I’ll happily take direction.”

“Sweet _fuck_!” Steve hissed when she sank back down his length. For an omega who’d never done this before, she had outstanding instincts. That kind of tempting offer had his sack tightening up against his body. She would see him spilling his seed over her tongue in a matter of moments with her seductive submission.

Her wings had gone lax against her back, sliding out long across the floor. Steve allowed his to lay lightly overtop while keeping them cocooned and hidden away. A quiet purr rippled from her with the contact, sending vibrations singing through his cock, which turned swiftly into a growl when he tightened the hold he had on her braid and dragged her head down faster.

Steve could have snarled with the pleasure pouring through his body. He’d never felt quite so out of control before. Nor quite so good. He was wholly enamoured with his little omega, the dove so sweetly sucking his cock.

“Do you like that, Elizabeth?” he purred but didn’t let her up to answer. “Is the taste all you hoped for? Can you smell how much I want you, ‘mega? Soon I’ll flood your mouth with my seed, and you’ll swallow every drop, won’t you?”

Her lashes lifted to show him her eyes as dark as winter storm clouds. She moaned her agreement.

Steve used her hair to pull her off him. “Take your gown off.”

“Alpha?” she frowned.

“Remove it. I wish to see you, Elizabeth. All of you.” He let his wings fall away so more light poured in and lifted some of the lust thick scents from around them. Then he washed her in his _Will_ pushing her just a little to comply.

She blinked for a moment, then pushed to her feet, forcing him to release her braid. Lizzy stood before him, a blend of nerves and excitement flourishing on the air. She reached to push the strap of her nightdress from her shoulder, and Steve found himself on his feet.

“Wait. Let me.” He wanted the pleasure of undressing her this first time. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen all his future mate had to offer, he had, but only glimpses. His mouth on her breasts or pressed to her sweet cunny. This would be the first he’d see her in a fully undressed state.

His undergarments had fallen down his legs the minute he was upright, leaving him standing before her in all his nudity. It was only fair she joined him. He gave the tie at the back of her neck a tug. Then, taking the straps of her nightgown in his hands, Steve slowly drew them off her shoulders and down her arms. The silk whispered over her skin, creating a fire filled ache in his belly. The mounds of her breasts came first, then her smooth, soft belly, her thatch of dark curls, her well muscled and lush thighs, all of her a pale cream.

“Elizabeth,” Steve sighed, stunned by her beauty. “You’re exquisite.”

She blushed, the colour coming from her chest and rushing up her neck. “So are you, Steven.” Her hands left trails of desire on his skin when they whispered over his chest and abdomen.

“I’d like you to finish what you started, ‘mega,” Steve growled, toying with the end of her braid. “On your knees.”

Like a cape she flipped out behind her, Elizabeth ruffled her wings and dropped to her knees. Her wings spread out long and wide behind her, a presentation to her alpha, one Steve highly appreciated. “Did you just present for me, love?”

Her hands wrapped around his calves and head rested against his thigh. “Yes.”

“How you tempt me, Elizabeth,” he growled, his cock throbbing and canines aching to be buried in her flesh. “But the idea of claiming you under my weyr’s roof and in my bed has grown like a seed in my mind. It has taken root and will not be weeded out, so while I will take my pleasure of your mouth, then give you back the same, I will not mate you beneath this roof, no matter how prettily you submit.”

A shiver shook her. Excitement and a little disappointment tickled his nose. “Yes, alpha.” Her wet mouth returned to his cock, slid the length of his shaft and enveloped him in her hot, moist cavern.

“Gods, darling.” He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, but her tight braid made that impossible. Instead, he framed her face with his hands and slowly began to roll his hips, taking her mouth like he wanted to take the rest of her. “Relax, love,” he purred, his wings flaring outward with the intense pleasure.

Her nails flexed where her hands rested on his thighs. The scent of her slick seemed to fill the room. Every breath was intoxicating. Every forward pump of his hips a lesson in control. She was doing so well, amazingly well, even when he bumped the back of her throat by accident, she only hummed and relaxed a little more. Her chin tilted up, and her eyes drifted closed. Then she was purring, the sound heady and the vibrations pure bliss.

Steve’s thighs quaked with exertion. Shook from how hard it was to remain on his feet. “Touch yourself, omega. Show me how wet you are.” He cursed himself even as the words left his lips.

Torture. It was another form of torture to watch Elizabeth's slim hands drift over her body, cup and weigh her breasts, pulled at the hard buds of her nipples before drifting down to play between her splayed thighs.

More burning roses and sweet honey bloomed on the air, her arousal growing with every sweep of her fingers before she lifted her hand to show him how slick and wet she was.

Steve lost the ability to fight the waves of climax building in his balls and succumbed to the sucking pleasure of her mouth. The wave became a crushing force, pummeling all in its path as it tore through his body and erupted over Elizabeth’s tongue in a hot splash of seed.

Her eyes shot open, surprise and pleasure warming them as she licked and sucked and swallowed, pulling every drop of release from his body until his cock began to soften. Only then did she release him from her mouth, a smile curling her lips as she swept her tongue over them and hummed in appreciation.

“Elizabeth,” Steve purred, helping her to her feet. He pulled her flush against him, heated flesh burning where they each touched the other. “What a perfect omega you are.”

“For such an alpha,” she smiled, “how could I not be.”

“Teasing dove. For that, I’m going to make you scream.” Steve backed her toward the bed, leaving all their clothing behind and forced her to sit on the edge of the mattress. “Don’t move,” he warned her, running his hands over her wings, shoulders, breasts, and belly.

He lowered to his knees while she arched and purred beneath his touch. “The old lore states if a dragon didn’t show the female he was courting enough pleasure during their build-up to mating, she would turn on him and kill him. Do you know that, Elizabeth?”

“I do,” she moaned when he continued to roll and tug her pretty nipples.

“It could take days, even weeks of gifts and caresses, touching and foreplay for a dragoness to finally agreed to mate her suitor.”

“You… you make a good dragon,” she gasped and moaned and spread her legs for him without him needing to ask.

Steve took her breast in his mouth and sucked, lightly abrading her nipple with his teeth before switching to the other. He kissed his way down her body, blew in her belly button, and slowly began to lick her thighs clean. “With such a fetching dragoness, I would be a fool to fail in my pursuit of you.”

Her hands flexed and clawed at the bedding as he made his way closer to her fragrant core. She fairly wept for him, her slick creating a wet stain on the bedding. His mouth watered in anticipation, but first, he brushed his nose over her curls, drawing in her scent, then turned his mouth to the gland in her thigh and closed his teeth over it. He couldn’t mark her there, but it would sing pleasure through her body as her loud cry attested too.

He used his mouth to make love to that spot, to kiss and lick and suck her sensitive gland until she was writhing and bucking against him, her hands buried in his hair. Her frantic cries filled the room, the silence broken only by the snap and crackle of the fire.

“Gods, Steven!” she screamed when he sucked hard enough to leave behind a purple mark.

Only then did he bury his face in her sweet core. Claim and feast on the fluid pouring from her perfect cunny. He licked and lapped and sucked, drinking and drowning in every ounce of her drugging nectar. The world around him faded as he lost himself to the pleasure of pleasuring his woman. Of showing her the same care and tender attention, she had shown him.

A blissed out moan preceded the clench and flex of her walls, her orgasm overcoming her. Steve smirked against her quivering core and slipped a single finger inside her tight channel. The tightness of her body felt exquisite on his digit. He turned it to pull in a gentle come hither motion while he gently pulled and sucked on her clit, refusing to let her orgasm wane before another bigger one was building.

She trembled, her thighs shaking, her belly quivering in anticipation, then as he slipped a second finger inside her, she was screaming her release a sound which swiftly faded into a well-pleased moan and heavy groan.

The gush of liquid into his mouth and over his hand made Steve chuckle darkly. He crawled up her body, his chin wet and clamped his teeth over the scent gland in her throat. Not hard enough to mark her, but hard enough to appease the instincts inside him demanding he claim his mate.

“Ahh!” she squealed and bucked beneath him, having fallen to her back after the second orgasm had stolen the bone from her spine.

“Will you live, darling?” he asked, spread out over her body.

“Mmm.” Her eyes fluttered open. “That was amazing.”

“So, you won’t kill me and eat me for not pleasing you, my dove?” he teased.

“Definitely, no,” Lizzy giggled.

Steve chuckled as he removed himself from her and went to pour water into a basin. He returned with a damp rag he used to wipe his face, then gently pressed it between her thighs. “Next time, I will see the water is brought to us hot so the rag will be warm when I use it on you,” he murmured apologetically when she jumped at the coolness.

“It’s fine,” she smiled, a small blush in her cheeks. “Are you always so comfortable in your nudity, Colonel?”

He smirked at her. “Are you?”

“Never, but then you’ve seen all of me. Why should I hide what you already know.”

She stood and stretched as he returned the cloth to the basin. Steve admired her sleek frame, but when she turned and bent over, shoving and pushing at the pillows to fix the nest they’d disturbed, he couldn’t help but jump on her.

“That’s a very tempting view, omega.” He wrapped his hands around the base of her wings and held her still, his hips flush with her buttocks as he ran his nose over her shoulder and up her throat, his tongue slicking over her flesh to scent mark her.

“Alpha,” she moaned, clenching her fists in the bedding.

“This is how dragons mated, my dove. The male held his mate so she couldn’t get away, and they stay like this, necks entwined, tails locked, while he mated her hours on end. Should I take you like this, Elizabeth? Rut you into the mattress and fill you so full of my seed your womb overflows?”

She turned her head and showed him the hot lust in her eyes. “If it pleases my alpha.”

His cock thickened and grew hard a second time. “How you tempt me, omega. How you tempt me. Fix your nest, darling so we may find some rest this night.” Steve released her and turned away to retrieve his brandy from the mantle and swallow it in a single go, hoping the burn would dull some of the ache in his loins.

It didn’t, but when he turned to look, Lizzy had crawled up into their bed, her wings tucked tight to her back with the sheet pulled up over her.

“Come to bed, Steven.”

Never had he seen a more pleasing sight than the dark-haired omega with her hand out. It was impossible not to go to her, crawl in the bed with her, and throw a protective wing over her body. Steve cupped her face and drew her close for a soft, tender kiss. “I love you, Elizabeth. So much already.”

“Steven,” she purred and curled into his body.

He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheek, and finally her lips. “Would you really have let me mate you tonight?” She nodded, her eyes dark and beautiful. “Why? What changed your mind?”

“You.” She gently touched his cheek. “You changed my mind. You’re a good man, Steven. You stood with me and by me today. You saw me as I am. I know you were angry with me, but you trusted me. You followed my lead. You… you believed in me. No matter how much Auntie and Uncle support me and love me, they’ve never shown the kind of faith you did when you didn’t question me. No one has ever…”

A tear dripped down her cheek. “Elizabeth, darling. You astound me. _Astound_ me!”

“Nothing I’ve said to you makes you think any less of me. That, Steven, astounds me. You’re my perfect mate. I can see that now. What fears I have regarding leaving my old life and starting anew, they’re nothing as long as you’re with me.”

Red washed through his vision. “There is still time, ‘mega,” he purred, lowering his head to nuzzle beneath her ear.

“But now you’ve put the idea of me becoming your mate in your bed in my mind. I think I’d rather wait.”

“Lizzy!” he groaned and dropped his head to her chest.

She burst out in giggles. “You’ll last one more day. Big strong alpha like you.”

“You’re terrible.”

“And here I thought I astounded you. If it’s such a burden to keep your hands to yourself one more day, I can always return to my old nest for the rest of the night.”

His arm slammed down over top of her. “Don’t you dare. Go to sleep, troublesome wench.”

“Wench!” she gasped.

“Ha! But you didn’t protest troublesome. It seems I’m figuring you out after all Miss Heartright.”

“Gods, Steven!” she burst out laughing and snuggled closer. “I adore you.”

“That’s good, because I adore you as well, Lizzy. Even if you are troublesome.”

“Keep it up, Colonel, and I’ll show you just how troublesome,” she muttered, stroking her fingers down his side and over his hip.

His cock jerked and reminded him it was still there. “Behave, woman. Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep.”

“I’m trying, but someone keeps talking to me.”

She giggled quietly and wormed her way that tiniest bit closer, curled her arm over his torso, and purred happily until she dozed off and the sound faded out.

Steve continued to purr, low and deep and quiet. His future laid out before him bright and full of love. Soon, she would see his home. Then she would become his mate, and when his friends arrived from Norway, there would be double the celebration.

Tucking his nose down in her hair, Steve held her close and went to sleep with her scent in his nose.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none  
> This update brought to you care of an anonymous donation through Coffee Updates. Thank you for your support, luv!

## Chapter Nine

* * *

Lizzy rode along at Steven’s side on her pretty chestnut mare. They'd decided they would take the horses and carriages as Constance’s wing would keep her grounded. While she and Natasha shared the coach driven by Jarvis, Lizzy enjoyed the peaceful morning from the back of her rarely used but much-loved mount.

A second coach driven by a few of the Landed servants followed behind, loaded down with their luggage and the first of Lizzy’s trousseau. It was highly unlikely she would be returning to Iron Hall after her visit to the lair of her Golden Devil, and had put the servants together packing up her clothing and the items from her bedroom. She’d worried for her library, but Aunt Pepper had assured her they would see her books and papers packed and brought along when the Starks attended the Earl’s ball in a weeks time.

The rattle of the bit and snorting of Steven’s mount drew her attention. The big black gelding had a fire in him and was fighting the bit, wanting to run and burn off his energy until the weight of Steven’s _Will_ set down upon him, causing the horse to snort and whinny before settling into a calmer pace.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that before,” Lizzy murmured in amazement.

Steven patted the gelding’s neck. “It is a common practice in the Army. Certain alphas can soothe an anxious team or quiet a barking dog.”

“Only certain alphas?”

“Warlord alphas,” he admitted. “We’re a species not to be trifled with. A little more… feral than the rest of our winged kind. Animals appear to know this instinctively.”

She pressed her heel into her mount and shifted closer. “I suppose that would be a fortunate talent to have if you needed to sneak past a guard dog.”

He chuckled softly. “I once managed to spook an entire company’s horses with nothing more than my _Will_ and a wild snap of my wings. It was comical. Barton, Natasha’s mate, found it immensely amusing and fell out of his perch he was laughing so hard. He’s a bit of a cat, though; always landing on his feet.”

“Will you tell me about them? Your people?” They rode with their wings crossed over the rump of their steeds, pulled tight to their backs with their primaries dangling. Lizzy shivered a little when her stiff wingtips brushed and rubbed against Steven’s, causing the alpha to growl softly in pleasure.

“I’ve known Barton for years,” he murmured, his voice thicker and deeper with her unintended caress. “He and Banner and Barnes and I have been like nest mates since our youth, having gone to the same schools. Barton is often called the Hawk, or Hawkeye, because of his incredible aim. There is no one who can match him when it comes to a bow and few who can hit his targets when using a gun. The only one who can give him any competition is Barnes, but then Bucky has a mind few if any appreciate.”

“What do you mean?” Lizzy asked.

Steve smiled at her and made her heart flutter. “Barnes is a mathematical wizard. He can calculate angles and vectors and velocities with a speed I've never seen. While Barton’s use with a bow is a self-taught skill and an incredible natural talent, Bucky’s is all up here.” He tapped his temple. “I once tried to have him explain it to me, how he manages to make the shots he does. It sounded like another language.”

He squeezed his horse into a smooth trot hers followed without Lizzy’s encouragement. “Banner is… different yet. A brilliant mind full of scientific knowledge. Had I known earlier of your Uncle’s work in agriculture I would have asked Banner along, but his tastes run more to biological science and chemicals than the weapons and mechanical inventions of Stark’s bent. I would ask when you meet him to be… kind. His wings are not what most people are used to.”

“Oh? Did he have an accident?” Lizzy asked curiously.

“Mm. An experiment went awry in his laboratory. It blew up a good portion of the keep. Luckily, the market day was on in the bailey, and most people had left the house. We lost three Landeds and a beta in the incident, and Banner, his wings… melted.”

“Melted!” she gasped.

“It is difficult to explain. Perhaps melted isn’t the right word. Where ours are feathered, his have now become more like leather. Bat-like.”

“Oh, my…” Lizzy whispered. “How terrible.”

“He’ll tell you he’d never had overly remarkable ones, to begin with, but what has become of them will often distress him. After the accident, we moved his laboratory to a tower beyond the keep. He retreats there, sometimes for days on end, and only Natasha can encourage him out. He feels quite the monster, Elizabeth. I must ask you to show him every ounce of compassion I know you possess. Bruce is a kind man, but he rarely if ever leaves Shield Manor. Occasionally he will venture out to Winter Hall, but that is unusual.”

“Shield Manor? That’s your home, yes? And Winter Hall is Lord Barnes?”

Steve nodded. “Indeed. We will pass Winter Hall first before arriving at Shield Manor, and you will be able to see the Landed village from just off the road.”

“Wonderful,” Lizzy smiled at him. “And I will do my utmost to be kind to Mr. Banner.”

“I know you will, Elizabeth.” He reached out his hand, and Lizzy skimmed her fingers over his palm. “There is Wilson who is Bucky’s beta, though you will wonder how that could be so with how they speak to one another. They are constantly at odds with much teasing and poking of fun, but in truth, they are quite close. Though you will often hear Sam grumble about how Barnes or I don't need a beta when it is clear we could be each others,” he chuckled.

“Could you really?”

He caught her fingers and shifted his horse closer to bring her knuckles to his lips. “Yes, darling. Barnes is as close to me as a brother. He may not be flesh and blood, but we may as well have been nestmates. There is nothing I would not do for him or him for me.” His brows pulled together in a frown. “T'is why this business with Miss Stark upsets me. This is not the man I know.”

“We’ll help them sort it out, Steven. I know we will.”

“If all else fails, I can always ask Loki to show an interest in her. That would be enough to drive Barnes mad.”

Lizzy smirked a little grin. “Lord Barnes doesn’t like the Prince?”

“They get on well enough, but if there were ever an alpha he wouldn’t want sniffing around your Miss Stark, it would be him.”

“Why?”

Steve snickered and grinned wickedly at her. “They call Loki silver-tongue for a reason. He is a charming rake who has yet to meet his match, while his brother, Thor, found his mate more by accident. You’ll meet Sif at the ball as well.”

“Two princes and a princess in attendance? I’m beginning to be glad I allowed Constance to talk me into the blue silk ball gown when last we were in London,” Lizzy murmured.

“I imagine I will be as well,” he purred, bringing her knuckles back to his lips.

The heat in his eyes warmed her belly. “Should I admit I had fanciful dreams about removing your uniform, Colonel, the night we met?”

Red washed into the whites of his eyes. “Elizabeth…” he growled. “That was very naughty.”

“But very true,” she snickered.

“It is incredibly difficult for a man to ride while aroused, darling.”

He glared at her, but Lizzy only giggled. “I shall remember that for the future, my love.”

“Woman.”

The tumble of boulders in his tone made her giggle all the harder. “Tell me of the rest of your weyr?” she asked, changing the subject before he could figure out some way to retaliate.

“Hm. Scott Lang and Hope van Dyne are the newest additions to our weyr thought they've been with us a few years. Theirs is the first hatchling borne under my rule. Cassie is a beautiful little thing with a head full of hair like her mother. A sweet little dragoness in the making I’m sure. Both betas.”

When he seemed hesitant to continue, she asked cautiously, “Is that all? I thought you said you had omegas you watched over as well." Lizzy wondered if she’d misunderstood.

“That is… complicated,” he sighed. “There is Maria Hill who is omega in name only. She grew up in difficult circumstances and acts more the beta than she ever has an omega. Because of her unfortunate start to life, her biology is… skewed. She is omega but has never had a heat. All the healers we’ve spoken to about her are in agreement.”

“She’s barren, isn’t she?” Lizzy whispered, unbelievably sad for the woman.

“Yes. Maria spends much of her time in the company of an old alpha, General Nicholas Fury. Though if asked, she aligns herself with my weyr. It affords her protection as General Fury has no weyr. Then there is… Peter.”

“Peter?” Lizzy frowned before gasping softly in understanding. “A male omega?”

“Again, yes and no. Peter presents as an omega, but he has the strength of an alpha. The boy looks like a strong wind would blow him off his wings, yet when we met, he was lifting a wagon off his Uncle. The poor man, unfortunately, succumbed to his wounds, but by that point, Natasha had taken a liking to Peter and decided he was coming home with us. The boy is sweet, smart, and talented. He has a unique skill set. You’ll see.”

Steven chuckled as if amused by the secret, and Lizzy felt the first stirrings of excitement at getting to meet his unusual but seemingly interesting weyr.

“Anyone else?” she asked.

His face fell into such lines of sadness, Lizzy inhaled and held her breath, worried what new person would have such a sad tale.

“Wanda… Wanda Maximoff. We met her in France. She’d been coerced into the war effort by the French in exchange for her brother’s freedom. Pietro was a thief and a charming rake, but he’d tried stealing from the wrong person and ended up in prison. They told Wanda if she infiltrated the English camp, my camp, and spied on us, they would let Pietro go. Unfortunately, she made a poor spy. Natasha caught her easily enough, and when she explained why she was there, we decided to rescue her brother instead. Pietro had skills we could use, and Wanda did as well if they were willing. But…” He shook his head.

“They killed him, didn’t they?” Lizzy whispered in horror.

“He was executed the moment we arrived. He was her twin, Elizabeth. Her twin brother. It broke her. Her screams when Pietro died… I will never forget them. But they made a grave error that day.”

“Why?”

“Wanda, when we met, she appeared omega. A Queen with the size of her wings and soft scent. Her brother was the one who appeared alpha, a trick of their twin nature. But Pietro was a beta. Wanda is the true alpha.  As close to a Warlord as I’ve ever seen in a female. Her rage that day.” He shook his head. “It was a bloodbath and changed her in ways we haven’t been able to understand. She was a pretty brunette with wings to match, but when she walked off the killing field she was drenched in blood. Her hair and wings have never lost that colour. Not even after all these years. She’s an enigma. A throwback, we think, to a certain clan of dragons where it was said those who succumbed to their bloodlust became vibrant red beasts.”

“It seems you have a very… unique weyr, Steven,” she murmured.

He drew his horse to a stop, causing hers to slow as well. “Elizabeth, none of them would ever hurt you. I often laugh about my family of misfits for we are all a little… odd, even me. I was the hatchling no one thought would live. A runt. Sickly my entire fledglinghood, but now, I am one of the greatest of Warlord Alphas. My _Will_ stands uncontested. We are a unique group, but we are a family. You are my mate, my incredible Queen who loves books and medicine and watercolours. Who speaks her mind and gives no apology for it. You, my sweet darling, belong in my weyr.”

“Are you certain I’m not too normal for your strange band, alpha?” Lizzy teased.

He walked his horse around the front of hers and down the opposite side, so they sat facing each other. “I think, omega, you are going to be the missing piece to the puzzle I’ve been building for years.” He set his hand on her abdomen. “And our fledglings will flush out the edges.”

“Steven,” Lizzy whispered, her heart too full for words.

“‘Mega,” he purred and leaned forward to kiss her.

“Get a room!” Natasha called, laughing as the coach rolled past.

“Bite me, Natalia!” Steve bellowed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time!” she yelled, cackling with more laughter.

“Do I dare ask?” Lizzy giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes but turned his horse to follow the coach. “Did Natasha tell you how we met?”

Lizzy shook her head.

“She tried to kill me.”

“What!”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Damn near succeeded too. If Barton hadn’t been there, she might have. She snuck into my room at this hotel in Pest-Buda, but Clint - Barton that is - happened to be on watch. He likes to nest, doesn’t matter where he is, he’s always in the highest vantage point. He was sitting in the rafters of the communal area, carved screens separating the rooms when Natasha snuck in from the balcony. The way he tells it, as soon as he shifted to stop her, the air circulating with the movement of his wings, she tripped over the rug and fell flat on her face, allowing him to flutter down and sit on her back, pinning her wings while he’s yelling for me to get myself out there.”

Lizzy giggled uncontrollably, unable to believe Natasha, who was so inherently graceful, would ever fall on her face. “That’s not how it went?”

“Well, when I managed to pull some pants on and grab a weapon, he was flat on his back with her straddling him, each had the other by the wings, and they were staring at each other in shock and amazement. Nat says she tripped on the rug but didn’t fall, allowing her to catch Barton by the wings as he landed and flipped them both to the ground.”

“Why did she trip at all?” Lizzy asked.

“Cookies,” Steve chuckled.

“I beg your pardon?”

“She said Barton smelled like cookies!” he burst out laughing. “It surprised her so badly, she tripped!”

“Oh!” Lizzy’s hand went to her mouth, helping stifle her laughter.

“Rogers!” Natasha bellowed from the back of the coach. “You’d best not be telling the story I think you are telling!”

“Would I ever?” he smiled winsomely, causing Lizzy to giggle. Natasha spat something in Russian Steven ignored. “Would you like to ride ahead?” he asked Lizzy.

“Can we?”

He turned his smile on her and kicked his horse up into a canter. Lizzy followed after him, comfortable in her side saddle, enjoying the feel of the horse beneath her and the wind blowing across her face. The sound of their hooves pounding the earth filled her ears as she chased the golden wings of her alpha across the expanse of green. Her skirts whipped up, but Lizzy could only laugh, loving the freedom of being one with her horse.

Steve pulled up, but Lizzy kicked her mare into a gallop, racing past him up the rolling hill. She grinned over her shoulder at him when he shouted at her and gave chase.

When he pulled up alongside, he grabbed her mare’s reins, forcing her to slow to a canter, then down into a walk and finally a stop.

“Were you planning on racing me all the way there?” he asked, a smile curling his lips.

“You’re the one who didn’t specify a finish line.”

“I didn’t know we were racing,” he chuckled.

“It’s always a race!” Lizzy laughed.

“Then how would you ever see the Landed village?” Steve turned his horse and headed off the road toward a much taller hill he rode up at a quick clip.

Heart skipping, Lizzy followed, her breath held in anticipation. Cresting the ridge, she exhaled hard. “Oh, my…” She’d always thought the Stark village large, but this was twice the size. “It's huge!”

“But not nearly as well organized as your uncle's. There is much which could be improved on.” He shifted closer to point toward a bigger building located on the edge of the village. “Unfortunately, the size and haphazard nature of the town has become a temptation to thieves and ruffians. The building there is known as the Southern Eerie, while its twin is the Northern. I have put in place a combination of betas and landeds to work together as a type of… police force.”

“Really?” There had been talk of such things, but most winged folk had little desire to live or work in landed towns. “How are they getting on?”

“As to be expected. There were a few hiccups along the way. A couple of stronger betas chose to exert their power over their landed counterparts and were dealt with.”

She shot him a glance. “You know, when you say _dealt with_ in such a way, one wonders if you roughed them up, Steven.”

“And if that were the case, Elizabeth my darling, would you think less of me?”

His grin was so mischievous she couldn’t help but laugh. “I can’t quite tell whether you are joking or not.”

He gave her a wink and turned his horse to face the direction they’d ridden. “And there is Winter Hall.” He pointed toward a stately stone house set well back from the road, hidden from view by the trees along the lane. Smoke billowed from the chimneys, and at this distance, the people working in the keep yard appeared no bigger than tiny ants.

“It’s a lovely house. Reminds me of Iron Hall.”

“Very similar,” Steve nodded.

“And is Shield Manor the same?”

“It is… _slightly_ larger,” he snickered, heading down the hill toward the road.

She wondered what slightly would entail but didn’t ask, looking forward to being surprised.

***

“Oh… wow!” Lizzy breathed as they made the final turn down along the road which would lead them to Shield Manor.

Steve couldn’t help but snicker. Even he found the place awe-inspiring after being away for a while. “Wait till you see it from the front.”

“Steven, that’s a castle!” Lizzy gasped. “It has a moat!”

“T'is a pond, Elizabeth, nothing more.”

“It’s at a lake,” she grumbled as they trotted along the lane, around to the front of his home.

In truth it was a large manor house, one easily mistaken for a castle, though the walls were not nearly tall enough for proper defence, nor were the turrets fortified. There were only the two canons, more for aesthetics than actual use. And while it sat on an island in the middle of the water, one couldn’t raise the three drawbridges.

Justifying all those things to himself, Steve hummed softly. “Perhaps it is a castle.”

“See!” she squeaked.

“But the main house truly is no bigger than your uncle’s.” They rode between the guard houses to the cheers and calls of welcome from his men. “Two coaches following, Duncan. Natasha is in the first.”

“Yes, milord Earl,” the man smiled and nodded. “And may I be the first to say welcome to Shield Manor, milady.”

“Thank you, Duncan,” Elizabeth smiled.

“Come, darling. I’ll show you our home.” The slightly awed look on Duncan’s face almost made him chuckle. He too had felt that way when Elizabeth had first smiled at him.

He sent his horse trotting over the narrow bridge, Elizabeth hot on his heels, only to draw the gelding to a halt beneath the covered portico of the stable lodge where two landed stablehands hurried forward.

Steve swung his leg over the horse’s neck and jumped down. “Barney. John. See to Lady Heartright’s mare. When time permits, see Lord Stark’s gelding returned to him.”

“Yes, milord Earl.” Barney held her mare for her while John led the gelding away.

Steve reached up for Elizabeth and took her by the waist, grinning when she set her hands on his shoulders and lifted her down.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she sighed when her feet touched the ground. “I do enjoy a ride, but it has been a while since I’ve ridden that far.”

“I will admit I much prefer to fly.” When she shook out her wings, he cupped her cheek. “Wait a moment longer. Once we’re beyond the carriage house, there will be room to stretch your wings.”

She smiled and leaned into his palm, turning her nose into his wrist. “Show me your home, alpha.”

“Our home, Lizzy,” he murmured and led her out into the sun and gravel of the oval drive.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” she sighed. “But definitely a castle.”

“Fine, fine. It’s a castle,” he laughed, stretching his wings out high and wide behind them as Elizabeth did the same. “But that,” he motioned to the smaller, square keep off to the right. “Is Clint and Natasha’s home. They share it with Scott and Hope.”

“Mated pairs. Having their own space must be nice.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Bruce, Sam, Wanda, and Peter are housed in the east wing of the main house, while the west is mine and will be ours from now on. The old castle, the separate semi-circle at the rear is reserved for the staff and the kitchens.”

“Kitchens?”

“Yes. My mother found she was quite sensitive to the smell of cooking meat when she was pregnant with me. As they expected to have more than one clutch, father thought it prudent to move the kitchens. It was mostly meat she couldn’t stand the smell of, allowing the cooks to keep the second kitchen in the main house. She liked the scent of baking bread,” he murmured, remembering her fondly. “Unfortunately, I was their only hatchling.”

She swung around in front of him and placed her hands on his chest. “I’m sad I won’t get to meet her or your father.”

He placed his hands on her waist. “They were good parents. Incredibly connected mates. I want that for us. I feel it for us already.”

“Steven.” She lifted her hands to his face and drew him down for a sweet kiss. “I love you, alpha.”

“Omega,” he breathed against her lips, uncaring if all his people watched. Standing in the middle of the bailey, he drew her closer and wrapped her in his wings. “You’re the light in my heart.”

“Oh, Steven,” she sighed sliding her fingers over his jaw.

“I wish I could know the alpha and beta who birthed such an amazing omega as well.” He tucked his nose in along her jaw, but the ribbon from her hat was in the way. Tugging on the bow, he shoved it from her head causing it to fall down her spine and free her abundance of dark curls. He buried his hand in it and pulled, arching her head to the side to give him access to swipe his tongue up her throat. “My ‘mega.”

“Alpha…” she whimpered.

He lifted his head and drew his wings away. People were gathering on the steps of the keep, waiting for him to introduce her, and the carriage could be heard coming across the bridge at his back. “Come, Elizabeth. We can continue this later.” He bent to retrieve her hat.

She licked her lips, her eyes dark and sultry. “I certainly hope so, Steven.”

It shouldn’t be so easy to succumb to her, but it was. With a look, a word, a touch, she drove him wild. Made him want to abandon those who stood waiting in favour of flying her to the windows of his suite where he could lock them away and make sweet love to her until his mark silvered her throat. But he refrained, barely, and took her by the hand, drawing her across the expanse of grass toward the stairs where Hope and Scott, Sam, Wanda, and Clint stood waiting.

Within the shadowed interior of the keep’s main doors, Steve could just make out the darker than black of Bucky’s wings and frowned. That was hardly making himself scarce, but when the flash of dark brown hair and jewel-toned wings also caught his eye, he relaxed. Bucky was there for Peter.

The boy clung to him or Bucky while they were in residence, or stayed close to Wanda when they weren’t. Still uncertain and quite shy, he needed the reassurance only the presence of an alpha could bring.

“Colonel!” Scott shouted and rushed down the stairs, pale grey wings rustling.

“Lang,” Steve sighed and took a step away from Elizabeth. It was like a ritual with the man every time he returned no matter how long Steve was gone.

The grin on Scott’s face was dopey but kind as he took Steve by the shoulders and squeezed. “Barnes told us, and I’m just so… I can’t… you’re so…”

“He means we’re incredibly happy for you, Colonel,” Hope smirked as she glided down the stairs carrying Cassie in her arms. “Lady Heartright.” She dropped a smooth curtsey which Elizabeth returned.

“Miss Hope van Dyne, Lady Elizabeth Heartright, my beautiful omega,” Steve smiled at Lizzy and detached himself from Scott with a pat to his arm. “And this is Scott Lang, her husband.”

“I could have sworn she was my wife,” Scott smiled and bowed to Lizzy who curtsied again.

“No, no. I’m pretty sure you're my husband,” Hope teased. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Heartright.”

“Lizzy, please. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends.” Her eyes danced with merriment, clearly enjoying the banter between Hope and Scott.

“Well then, I insist you call me Hope.” Hope moved closer, her smile kind. She was a few inches taller than Lizzy with wings of deep brown like freshly turned earth after the rain, and short cropped hair that swung just above the height of her shoulders. “And this is Cassie. She was quite insistent on coming out to meet you.”

Steve watched Lizzy melt into a cooing, chirping, giggling mess of an omega as she gushed over the hatchling. He couldn’t fault her for it though, not when he stepped forward and held out his arms for Cassie.

“How’s my best girl?” he asked as the sweet babe wrapped her hand around his finger.

“She’s just darling!” Lizzy exclaimed.

“We quite like her,” Scott chuckled, curling his arm around Hope while nuzzling his nose into her throat.

“But you should probably give her back now, Colonel as she’s due for her nap.” Hope held out her arms.

Reluctant to give her back, Steve brushed his nose over Cassie's bonnet, inhaling her sweet scent. He rumbled a quiet purr and smiled when Cassie cooed and kicked her feet, little rumbles and raspberries coming from her mouth. “Precious little dragonet,” he murmured before finally giving her back.

“She adores him,” Scott said, smiling at Lizzy. “As we all do. Welcome home, alpha. Welcome to Shield Manor, Lady Lizzy.”

Steve nodded his head when they walked off, heading for their home. He collected Lizzy’s hand and led her toward the house where Wanda, Sam, and Clint stood waiting, though Barton’s attention was on the carriage coming down the lane.

“Elizabeth, my love, meet Miss Wanda Maximoff, Sir Samuel Wilson, and Master Clint Barton.”

Again she dropped a graceful curtsey. “A pleasure,” Lizzy murmured.

“It is ours to have you here,” Wanda said, holding out her hands, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “Too long has our alpha been alone.” She looked lovely in a deep red dress with her hair tied back in a long tail of curls which hung between her blood red wings.

When Elizabeth took Wanda’s hands, her smile was brilliant. The scent of _joy_ and _excitement_ was rising around her. “I feel the luckiest of women to be his omega.”

“I think you have that backwards, Elizabeth. I am the lucky one,” Steve said, sliding his hand gently down her wing.

“It’s about time someone came along who could keep Cap in line,” Sam chuckled.

“Watch it, Wilson,” Steve smirked.

“How did you wind up with such a stunning dove?” Sam continued to tease, his eyes alight with amusement as he offered his hand to Elizabeth and bowed over it.

“He swooped down to save me, but only after I’d succeeded in rescuing myself,” Lizzy teased him with a coy glance over her shoulder.

“Darling,” Steve pouted.

She laughed. “Then charmed me as only he could.”

“Cap? Charming?” Clint grinned. “I don’t believe it.”

“I’ll have you know I am incredibly charming,” Steve growled.

Lizzy sidled closer to Steve but sniffed delicately near Barton. “Hm, he does smell like cookies.” Laughter erupted all around them.

“Natalia!” Clint gasped. “Have you been telling stories.”

“You have only your alpha to blame for that,” she said, alighting from the carriage with Constance, being handed down by Jarvis. “Where is Peter?”

“H-here…” came a quiet voice from the shadowed doorway.

Steve took Lizzy’s hand and led her up the steps. “It’s alright, Peter. You know I would never allow harm to come to you. Come and meet my Elizabeth.”

The boy stepped hesitantly into the light, his shoulders hunched, and eyes downcast. His appearance made Lizzy gasp in amazement.

“What beautiful wings,” she whispered. Hers lifted and spread, sending the rainbows dancing across the surface before relaxing and softening down her back in a non-threatening display. “Hello, Peter. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She curtsied to the boy who fidgeted, eyes darting, before bowing to her.

“And… and you, miss,” he murmured.

“Steven has told me a little about you,” Lizzy said as she glided closer with Steve keeping pace. “But he didn’t tell me you had wings of such pretty colours.”

“Thank… thank you, Lady Heartright,” Peter blushed.

“You’re welcome to call me Lizzy, Peter,” she smiled, her omega releasing the scents of _calm, safe, security_ to help ease the boy.

Peter flicked his jewel-toned wings in surprise and glanced at Steve for assurance. Steve rumbled a low growl, offering comfort, and ruffled the boy’s hair.

Wings held tight to his back; Steve patted Peter’s shoulder.  “You and Elizabeth both have rainbows in your wings, Peter. I’m sure she’d like to see them fully,” Steve coaxed.

They spread slowly, shining with the colours of emeralds, rubies, golds, and sapphires. Long and narrow and sharply pointed, Peter's primaries were almost transparent.

“Oh, Peter! How wonderful! Like a hummingbird! They’re beautiful!” Lizzy exclaimed.

The boy’s blush deepened. “Thank you, Miss Lizzy.”

He darted another glance at Steve who nodded in dismissal and smiled his approval. “You did well, Peter. Off with you.”

He dashed off with a flurry of wings, faster than the eye could follow.

“He even moves like one,” Lizzy sighed in amazement. “How special.”

“We’ve never seen another like him,” Natasha murmured from Steve’s right. “He and his uncle were being hunted. The alpha of the territory they’d crossed decided he wanted Peter’s wings as a trophy, be them attached to the boy's back… or not.”

“Oh, the poor boy,” Constance said to Lizzy’s left. “No wonder he’s so shy.”

“That alpha wasn’t the first,” Steve sighed. “They’d been running for their lives for some time when Peter’s uncle died. It took a long time for him to trust us and our weyr, and new people make him nervous. He may be shy for a while.”

“At least he’s safe now,” Lizzy murmured, cuddling into Steve’s side.

“Yes, and he’ll stay that way,” Bucky said striding out the door. “Lady Heartright.” He bowed to Lizzy.

“Lord Barnes.” Her voice practically dripped ice.

“Lady Stark,” he offered the same greeting to Constance who was bleeding distress as if from an open wound.

Before Steve or any of the others could move, Natasha was in flight and Bucky was flat on his back with Natasha’s dagger against his throat. “Barton, I have invited Lady Stark to be our guest. Escort her to our home while I discuss things of a _sensitive_ nature with Lord Barnes.”

Bucky swallowed audibly.

“Of course, my Russian darling,” Clint chuckled and held out his arm for Constance. “Allow me to see you to our humble home, Lady Stark. It will be quite free of Lord Barnes, I assure you,” he finished with a growl and a glare at Bucky and swept Constance away, his voice fading as he chattered on about nothing.

“Colonel, perhaps you should show Lizzy the house,” Natasha snarled, her eyes never leaving Barnes pale face.

“I think that is an excellent idea. Wanda, would you mind showing Jarvis to Natalia’s? I’m sure he’ll be more comfortable where he can be near his charge.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Jarvis bowed, his eyes locked on Wanda.

“It will be pleasure of mine, alpha,” Wanda murmured as she headed down the stairs, her accent noticeably thicker.

“Wilson?” Steve pinned the beta with a look.

“He’s my alpha, but he’s been a stupid head lately,” Sam grumbled. “Still, I’ll stay and make sure Nat doesn’t gut him.”

“So be it,” Steve nodded and led Lizzy into the keep where the doors swung shut behind them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none  
> This update brought to you thanks to @horrsegal and @texmexdarling through Coffee Updates. Thank you for your love and support.

## Chapter Ten

* * *

Natasha glared down at Barnes angrier than she’d been in a very long time. “How dare you act like nothing happened.”

“Natalia…”

“Do not speak!” She pricked his skin with the point of her dagger. “You haven’t the right.”

Sam crouched down a few feet away. “Natasha, I know he’s been beetled-headed of late-”

“Wilson,” Barnes growled.

“-But he came for Peter.”

She snapped her wings up and outward, allowing the deep black of her Widow’s persona to overcome her. “You listen to me, Lord Barnes. Miss Stark has become a dear friend. The wrong you have done her will not be easily forgiven. Do not seek to enter my home while she is here. Your presence is not welcome.”

It appeared the shock had worn off for Barnes _Will_ began to pour from him. “Natalia, remove yourself from my person.”

She gritted her teeth and dug her knife in deeper. “Not until you understand the severity of my words.”

The sharp tang of metal filled the air, his eyes turned red, and his right hand snapped out to wrap around her throat. “Remove yourself this instant, woman!”

His _Will_ hit her like a slap, causing Natasha to jerk backward. “I gave my word to Lord Stark. Distress his fledgling, hurt her in any way, not even your _Will_ shall keep me from slicing you open.” She stood and took a step back. “You destroyed her. She does not eat. She barely sleeps. She smells of death and a broken heart. It took hours of Lady Heartright’s pleading to see Miss Stark agreeing to accompany her. I will not allow you to hurt her again. She’s important to Lizzy, nearly a nestmate, and Lizzy is Steve’s omega. You would not want to be responsible for upsetting Lizzy. Not with Steve so close to his rut.”

Bucky picked himself off the ground and shook out his wings. “Steve will not be in rut for a few weeks yet.”

She shook her head and glanced at Sam. The other beta nodded his agreement. “If you bothered to use your nose, Lord Barnes, you too would smell the change around him. Instead, you think only of yourself.” She spat a sentence at him in Russian, one best not translated, and turned to go only to pause on the stairs. “You are a fool when it comes to Miss Stark. Constance is a wonderful woman you have hurt quite brutally. Until such a time as you pull your head from your arse, do not try and see her. Do not be in her presence. Do not even attempt to speak to her. And remember who my mate is. Your _Will_ cannot stop an arrow, Lord Barnes.”

Bucky’s eyes were still red when he glided toward her. “I wished only to offer greeting before I left for Winter Hall. Would you have me be rude, Natalia?”

“You have already proved yourself a cad and a rake, breaking her heart, James Barnes. Being rude is the least of your concern.”

His face fell, the red leaching from his eyes. “I cannot be her alpha.”

Natasha lifted her chin. “You boneheaded fool. You already are.” She flicked her wings, returning them to their unassuming brown, and walked away.

Moments later, the snap of down-swept wings was followed by another as Bucky left the keep and Sam went with him.

***

“Will Miss Romanoff be alright dealing with Lord Barnes?” Jarvis asked the woman gently holding his arm.

She was radiant in her red glory. She did not downplay her colouring by attempting to offset it with a contrasting dress but wore a gown as red as the rest of her. It was bold. Daring. He suspected it expressed her personality quite well.

He could smell her scent on the wind. Subtle. Soft. Sweet. Raspberries and sugar. It made his mouth water as no female ever had before. Only a beta, he had not the drives nor instincts the alphas did, but still, this stunning female called to his inner beast. But something about her, about the way she moved and smelled, it bespoke omega yet… not. Like the boy on the steps, she was more than she seemed.

“Natalia is most skilled. Lord Barnes will know his place. He has angered the entire weyr with his callous behaviour. If worst comes, he will not win out against the Colonel and myself. But… I have faith, da? He is,” she waved her hand, “confused. His mind is very mixed up after his time in France.”

“Pray forgive my ignorance, Lady, but how would you be of assistance to the Colonel against Lord Barnes?”

Wanda smiled up at him, giving him a hint of fangs. “You think me omega, da?” Her grin widened when Jarvis nodded. “I am not. I am alpha.”

She spread her wings behind them, high and wide, and he felt it — the brush of _Will_ that wrapped him in a ribbon of sensation. It poured through him, covered him, coated him in more of her delicious scent, very nearly sending him to his knees.

“Alpha,” he breathed and stopped at the bottom of the secondary keep’s stairs. “My lady. May I be so bold as to inquire if you are… attached?”

A blood red brow lifted and amusement scented the air. “Why do you ask…?”

He collected her fingers from his arm and bowed over her hand. “Viscerion. Viscerion Jarvis. My mother called me Vis while my father preferred Vision. And it is Sir though I hold to no title but Majordomo for the Starks.”

She tilted her head and stepped closer. “Why Vision?”

“I can see very great distances and pick up minute changes in the space around me.”

“Such… beautiful eyes.” Her free hand lifted to his face.

He did not look away from her eyes when her grip on his hand changed, and she brought it to her nose. He extended his wrist, aware of what she was about, and exposed the gland hidden by his sleeve cuff and glove. The rumbled purr she produced upon finding his scent tightened his loins substantially.

Jarvis curled his wings around them, unwilling to share a moment more with what staff bustle about to bailey. “Lady Maximoff… I am but a humble servant in the Stark household, yet I find... that is to say, I am most… overcome by your presence. It appears I… I hold a high esteem for you upon this, our first meeting, and I-”

“Vis,” Wanda purred. “You will stay with me.”

His face flushed. “I must stay near Miss Stark. Her father is my alpha, no matter my feelings for you.”

Red seeped into the white of her eyes. “Then is good I have rooms in both keeps, da? Is very bad for me to be in main house during the Colonel’s rut, and I like the company of the women. I will stay here. With you.”

His heart skipped and pounded in his chest. “I would… I would be most… most pleased for your company.”

She chuckled and patted his cheek. “You are so shy, English, but never worry. I won’t break my beta.”

Jarvis swallowed thickly. “I am Lord Stark’s sworn beta.”

“Da.” She shrugged and tugged on his cravat. “Is not a second I look for, Vision.”

“What… what…”

She pulled a little harder until his neck was fully bent, and he felt drunk on the scent of her. Everything inside him screamed for him to grab and seize and claim the woman standing before him, but he hesitated, uncertainty swimming inside him. Her face came incrementally closer until it bypassed his, and her nose skimmed the edge of his jaw. It tucked into the space just above his cravat and below his ear sending shivers of desire streaking through him.

“You smell like… _dinner_.”

“Gods save me,” Jarvis groaned.

“My head swims with your scent. My heart pounds. The bloodlust in me surges with my desire. I wish for no second. I will have no weyr save this one. The Colonel is the alpha I look to, but my heart, my soul, my nature cries... _mate_.”

Jarvis snarled and sought her mouth, unable to maintain his composure when she stood there before him, a gift and an offering. The first taste of her was exquisite. Sugar and spice and the barest hint of the copper tang of blood. It made her all the more addicting until she pulled her mouth from his and panted against his lips.

“It seems the Colonel is not the only one to find his mate,” Natasha said as she passed them, her feet nearly silent in the gravel. “I take it you will be staying with us, Wanda?”

“Da. Spasibo tebe, sestra.”

The smug smile Natasha sported was more approving than teasing. “Pozdravleniya, sestrenka. Come, Sir Jarvis. Be welcome in our home. There will be time for you to enchant our fire dragon when Miss Stark is settled and returned to calm.”

“Your understanding is appreciated, Lady Barton.”

Natasha froze on the steps; her eyes narrowed his direction. “Natasha or Natalia is perfectly acceptable, seeing as how it appears you will be joining our weyr.”

“I remain ever loyal to Lord Stark.”

“As you should. That does not mean you will not have a home here. Do come in. While my mate is a fine man, he lacks social graces.”

“I heard that!” shouted the man in question from within the keep.

“See?” Natasha smiled and swept through the open door.

“Is she always like that?” Jarvis asked Wanda.

“Da, as long as I’ve known her. She has the mannerisms of a grand lady but refuses the title.” Wanda returned her hand to his arm. “Introduce me to your Miss Stark. I wish to be very good friends with her.”

He smiled down at her with such appreciation, Jarvis knew he must look utterly foolish but could not find the will to care. “I would be in your debt if you helped soothe her poor heart. She has been my charge from her earliest days in the nest. This upset.” He shook his head. “I want nothing but to see her smile again.”

Wanda nodded thoughtfully. “I understand the pain of heartbreak, perhaps better than most. It was like that when Pietro, my brother, was killed. Let me see what I can do.”

“You are a great lady.” He stole her free hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. The happiness in her eyes and pleasure in her smile were all the reward he could ever hope for.

***

Lizzy was speechless, her gaze upon the grand hall and ornate ceiling above her. It would rival that of some churches: soaring stone arches and grand buttresses mixed with colourful glass. Ornate columns held it all aloft, great stone pillars upon which more great arches rested. At the height of one of the magnificent windows, she caught the glimmer of rainbow wings and realized the boy, Peter, had hidden away in the buttresses.

What an incredible home for a fledgling to spread their wings. The idea of it, of seeing a variety of young ones spread their wings to flit among the arches made her smile. “Steven, this is splendid!”

He relaxed and smiled for her as he divested himself of his hat and gloves, handing both off to a waiting servant before assisting her with her coat and handing it off as well. “Father had… ostentatious tastes.”

“No, no!” Elizabeth took his offered arm. “It’s very grand but not at all pretentious. It makes a most wonderful first impression.”

“I’m pleased you think so.” He gently clasped his hand over hers. “Darling, this,” he nodded to the man standing stiffly with Steve’s coat over his arm, “Is Everett Ross. He is the butler of this house. Ross, my lady, Miss Heartright, soon to be Lady Denton.”

The man was quite short with bright blonde hair. He stood very tall and held his wings most tightly. The same pale blond, the colour reminded Lizzy of a palomino mare her mother had once owned. The smaller size proclaimed him beta, as did his scent, and though he stood as if his spine were made of steel, he smiled brightly. “I am honoured to meet your lady, my lord Earl. Lady Heartright.” He bowed deeply to her.

Lizzy tilted her head. “A pleasure, Mister Ross.”

“Ross, see Miss Heartright’s things placed in the Rose Room.”

Ross’s eyes grew round, but his smile spread all the wider. “At once, my lord Earl.” He bowed again and hurried off, barking orders to the waiting servants. Most, to Lizzy’s surprise, were Landeds.

Steve led her down the gleaming parkay floors, motioning to the set of narrow arched windows at the far end of the keep. “Through the doors there you’ll find a courtyard of cobblestones and a small fountain. It is quite narrow, separating the main house from the servants quarters, but tis a nice place to spend time outside without leaving the safety of the keep’s walls.”

“It sounds lovely.”

A wide stairway led up to the East wing and another to the West. He led her into the West wing where a third broad flight of stairs ascended to the second story. Like the grand entrance hall, it was made of stone, and she marvelled at the mastery of masonry which would have gone into its creation. Even the balustrade and stair railing was of carved and polished stone.

Steven’s smile was indulgent when she paused to pass her fingers over the curled newel post. “Come, darling. There is much to see.”

Vast halls and high ceilings led to keeping rooms and parlours, sitting rooms and studies. One salon led into another, and Lizzy gasped a little with each newly revealed room. The ceilings were painted with beautiful medallions, each the work of a master artist. The colours flowed and complimented, changing from pale minty greens into soft peach, lightening into the calming blue of a summer sky before sliding into a deeper sunny yellow.

Though a touch out of date, the furniture was lovingly polished and great care had clearly been taken to keep up the house. All the clocks ran on time. The windows shone streak free. There wasn’t even a hint of dust to be found on any flat surface or mantle.

Lizzy flicked her fingers over the edge of a heartily fluffed pillow. “Your housekeeper must be a quite the taskmaster.”

“Mrs. Danvish is strict but efficient. Since her enrolment in this house, I have had no qualms about leaving it in her capable hands when I’ve been away. Between her and Ross, there have been no complaints.”

“You seem to have an abundance of Landeds in-house.”

He looked at her with an arched brow. “I did not think that would bother you.”

“It doesn’t. Not at all. I find it… progressive.” Lizzy beamed up at him. “You’re a kind man, Steven.”

“I own a large estate. It is not always possible to employ one of winged kind. The Landeds are hardworking and grateful for the opportunity. I show them my trust, and they, in turn, give me their loyalty.”

Lizzy only smiled, her face a touch tender from how wide her cheeks had spread. The entire home was a marvel — a wonder to behold. She found so much about it she adored. “What’s next?”

Steve took her hand and drew her out the door of their current parlour toward another stairwell. This one was as wide as the stone one of before, but of wood and carpet, it appeared a touch shabbier, as if well used.

“You are welcome to make whatever changes you wish, darling,” Steve said as if he could read her mind.

“It truly is so grand. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Possibly with refurbishing the stairwell?” He chuckled softly as he led her up it.

“Well.” Lizzy blushed and bit her lip.

“It is the closest stairs to my suite and studio. They are well used.”

She looked up at that, excitement humming inside her. “May I see it? Your studio? I would love to see your artwork.”

“You already have, sweet dove. Many of the paintings throughout the house are mine.”

“And you didn’t point them out?” She tsked, disappointed to have missed them.

“Let me remedy my error?” Steve led her to a door on the south side of the keep and motioned for her to open it.

A trickle of nerves ran through her, but Lizzy did not think she would dislike his work. In truth, she hadn’t seen a piece of art she hadn’t admired. Still, he’d been so kind about her talent, she wanted to feel the same about his and pushed the door inward with some hesitancy.

Light beamed across the honey-toned hardwood floors from the wall of windows. Shadows cast themselves over canvases and easels set between the bright white light pouring into the room. It caused Lizzy to squint momentarily as her eyes adjusted. The smell of paint and canvas, cleaners and a hint of dust tickled her nose.

Then her eyes adjusted and Lizzy could only stare in amazement. Her slippers made no sound as she padded across the floor to stare in awe at the work on the canvases. Many were portraits, some of the risque variety, but others were of animals, landscapes, and ships at sea. The one upon the easel, a storm swept vista of billowing, angry clouds in blacks and greys rolled against the writhing sea where a boat, small and fragile, was tossed amongst the waves. Greens and deep dark blues curled into white foam where it frothed against the hull, while the creamy white sail rippled in the wind, torn from its mast. A man of indeterminable age fought a battle with nature, with sea and sky, and left Lizzy breathless in wonder and a strange sense of foreboding. Did he win? Did he fight the battle and outlast the storm? Did he make it home to his family and weyr? Or did the storm triumph, taking boat and sailor to the bottom of the sea?

“Oh… oh, Steven. Faith… I’ve never seen such skill.”

Relief rolled off him when he stepped into her spine. “It’s unfinished.”

“You could leave it unfinished, and it would still fetch a fortune if you wished to sell it. But I pray you keep it. I feel…” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I feel real fear for the man, but a sense of hope too. No matter the storm that rages, those who fight, who never give up, those are the people who live on and succeed. Oh, Steven.” She wanted to touch it but could smell the day's old paint and knew the canvas would still be tacky.

“Then when it is finished, it will be yours to do with as you please.”

“It must hang in the parlour. Somewhere where all who visit can see it.”

“Perhaps we’ll need to redecorate. Change one of the rooms to suit a nautical theme, for if mine must hanging in the parlour, then so too must yours, my love.”

A deep blush burned through her cheeks. “I have not this skill.”

“You have. You simply do not see it.”

Lizzy tucked her chin and moved deeper into the room. More paintings stood finished against the far wall, setting her shaking her head in wonder. “How are you not the talk of the Ton? How is it people are not clamouring for an Earl of Denton painting to hang in their home?”

“It is a hobby, nothing more. A way to relieve stress and calm my mind, Elizabeth.”

She shook her head at his humility, then gasped at the portrait of Natasha. “Does your beta know you have this?”

Pink caressed the alpha’s cheeks. “The sketches. She knew of the sketches.”

Lizzy shifted three paintings out of the way to bring the one of Natasha forward. She appeared as a phantom crouched upon a boulder. Dressed in all black leathers, the buckles of her clothing reflected the silver of the moon’s glow. It appeared to kiss the arch of her wings and absorb into the midnight black of her feathers. A hood hid the vibrant red of her hair, but small curls escaped around her face and across her forehead. Her green eyes were ethereal against her milk-pale skin; her lips the red of Lizzy’s favourite rose, but though she appeared beautiful, the gleam in Natasha's eyes bespoke danger. She was a woman not to be trifled with. A fact driven home by the sword, daggers, and guns strapped to her body.

“You capture her likeness and her personality in an image that astounds one’s eye.” Lizzy turned from the portrait and slowly shook her head. “Your talent… it is a blessing from the gods, for surely only they could create such works of wonder.”

He stared at her for a long moment before his gaze drifted from her face to her wings. “I wish to try with you, Elizabeth. To paint your likeness on a portrait to hang in my room. One only I will ever see.”

“You and the servants,” Lizzy teased.

A smile tugged his lips. “Would you agree to sit for me?”

“You know I would.”

The smile grew. “Not now, but soon. I know precisely how I want you.”

Lizzy glided toward him. “And how is that… alpha?”

Steve growled and took her by the waist. “You will see. Come. There is more yet.”

“I find I desire to see my suite. Though, in truth, I would rather share yours… alpha.”

“Elizabeth.” The word purred from his lips and trembled through her body. “The Rose Room is the suite which adjoins my own. It was my mother’s, as my father’s is now mine. The linens and bedding have all been replaced, but the furnishings have not changed. It is yours to do with as you wish.”

“Oh…” Lizzy frowned. “I had thought… I mean…”

He seemed to know what she was thinking again and cupped her chin to lift her face. “You will nest in my room, omega. I simply offer you a space free of me should you need a quiet place to retreat to.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I have it on good authority mates of the male persuasion can be exasperating. Natasha and Hope have informed me thusly many times when they have requested I take Barton and Lang hunting.”

She giggled, couldn’t help herself, and dropped a small curtsey. “Then I thank you, kind sir, for considering my future need to be rid of you.”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Let us pray that day is not soon in the offing.”

Heat licked at her womb as Lizzy licked at her lips. “I certainly hope not.”

“‘Mega.” More growl than word, it was her only warning before Steve’s mouth was on hers, seeking access, sweeping inside, and caressing the sharp tip of her swiftly lengthening fang with his tongue.

The brush of his wings against the edge of hers made Lizzy moan with the intimate embrace. Steve’s arms were tight bands, keeping her close while she clutched ardently at his clothing. He broke the kiss to lean his forehead against hers and breathe slowly, noses brushing as they clung to each other.

“Steven.”

“I find my passions are boiling over, Elizabeth. I long to take you to my suite, lock the door, and keep you there till morning.”

“Why do I feel there is a _but_ coming?”

“Dinner. We must make it through dinner. If I were to start now, we would not be seen until breakfast. But by the gods, Elizabeth! I want you.”

A quiet cry escaped her when his teeth closed on her throat. “How long till dinner?”

“Too long.” His tongue swept over her skin.

She tugged his cravat, pulling until it came loose in her hand. “I find food is not what I yearn for.”

“Dammit, Elizabeth,” Steve growled against her shoulder, grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room. “We will finish the tour.”

The ache in her womb made her legs shake. Frustration and urgency scented the air around Steve when he drew her down the hall. He led her through the doors not far from his studio into a room with pale ivory walls and stunning floral rugs. The cornice mouldings around the ceiling were quite ornate and beautifully carved. It was a lady’s study with the decor of pinks and creams, mirrors in gilt frames, porcelain figurines, and elegant furnishings.

“This was my mother’s study. It was her favourite room. Now it is yours.”

He looked at her expectantly, but the fire of desire continued to hum in Lizzy’s blood, taking a moment to clear enough for her to smile up at him. “It’s a lovely room. I’m certain I can fit a good amount of my books in here.”

A predatory sharpness gleamed in his eyes before he took her hand without a word and walked across the hall. “You will not need to house your collection in your study, darling.”

The door opened, and Lizzy gasped.

“Welcome… to my hoard.”

She rushed forward to stand at the iron railing and gape at the room before her. It spread over two floors, opening into the one below them, a library the likes of which she had _never_ seen before. Dark wood panelled the walls. Chairs and couches, even a lounging divan waited in cozy groupings around rugs of beautifully worked dark colours. A massive fireplace stood at the far end with a tapestry hanging above it. But it was the ceiling she gaped at. A sky full of winged folk flew against the cloud covered blue background.

Tears pricked her eyes as Lizzy brought her hands to her mouth, overcome with emotion. If she’d had any lingering doubts they were meant for each other, seeing this, his hoard, would have wiped those thoughts from her mind. The tender brush of his hand between her wings had the sob she’d been fighting breaking free.

“It’s yours, ‘mega. Every book, every scroll, every written word. All of it is yours.”

Lizzy turned and threw her arms around him. “Oh, Steven! How am I ever to read them all?”

“You have a lifetime with me to try.”

She framed his face with her hands and pressed kiss after kiss to his lips. “Thank you, alpha. Thank you so much!”

Before he could do more than chuckle, Lizzy spun away and darted down the second-floor balcony, her fingers walking the spines of all the books. There were so many, and it seemed they were in no sort of order as she found Shakespeare mixed with Blake and tomes on botany. One particular book bound in old leather and embossed with gold leaf along the spine had her inhaling sharply.

“The Iliad?” She pulled it from the shelf and opened the cover. “And in the original Greek dialect!”

Steve leaned against the railing with another indulgent smile. “It’s fascinating.”

“You’ve read it?” Lizzy skimmed her fingers over the page in wonder.

“Not in Greek, but yes.”

She smiled at the first page and touched the words written there with gentle fingers. “O muse! Sing the accursed wrath of the son of Peleus Achilles, which caused countless woes for the Achaeans and hurled many valiant souls of warriors to Hades, and made their bodies a booty for dogs and a feast for vultures, and the will of Zeus was being accomplished.”

“Impressive.”

“My father. He read those words to me when I was but a hatchling. Afterward, I couldn’t put them down. Books became a window into a world I knew nothing about. Then they became an escape and a way to remember him.” She pulled the book to her chest and held it there, eyes closed. The scent of the dusty tome reminded her of the hours she’d spent listening to him read to her.

“Everyday you find another way to impress me, my dove.”

She opened her eyes to find Steve standing close, the soft affection and adoration in his eyes making her blush. “You do the same, Steven. So it is only fair.”

He plucked the book gently from her arms. “While I hate to drag you away from what is clearly your first love, I think it best I show you to your room. I imagine Ross and Mrs. Danvish have gotten you sorted by now, and I am certain you would like to change after our ride. Perhaps rest before dinner?”

Lizzy headed for the door but glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Would you be joining me for this _rest_ , Colonel?”

“I think, Elizabeth, it is perhaps best if I check to see if I have any pressing messages.”

“Spoilsport.” Lizzy pouted.

Steve chuckled but held out his hand and led her down the hall to the far end of the West wing. A host of servants were bustling about, mostly female but for the few men who were packing trunks into the room.

“That’s the last of them,” Ross said, patting the first of the two men on the shoulder before noticing Steve and Lizzy. “My lord Earl. Lady Heartright. We will be but a moment longer.”

“It’s fine, Mister Ross.” Lizzy didn’t want anyone to feel rushed in their duties.

“Ma’am, if I may be so bold.” Ross shot a glance at Steve and bowed deeply. “Just Ross is perfectly acceptable. I am evermore your humble servant.”

Lizzy smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Ross.”

“May I introduce you to Mrs. Danvish?” Again he glanced at Steve.

“I’m perfectly capable of introducing myself, you daft man.”

The woman who bustled from the room should have looked severe in her black dress, but no one could appear strict with such pretty wings. Iridescent blue tipped in black, they fluttered out behind her, rounded like a sparrow's. Her scent read as omega, but the old silver scar on her throat showed she’d been mated for quite some time.

She wiped her hands on her apron as she bustled closer, then descended into a deep curtsey once she arrived at the door. “Lady Heartright, it’s an extreme pleasure to meet the Lady who tamed this overgrown alpha.”

“Mrs. Danvish!” Ross scolded, though Steve only smiled, clearly used to her plain way speaking and not at all offended.

She ruffled her wings and ignored Ross’ stern glare. “You must be exhausted, riding all the way here from Iron Hall. Come, come. I’ve had the maids strip the excess bedding, knowing there will be a trunk amongst all these with your preferred nesting things. I’ve Mary and Sarah unpacking and pressing your dresses, and Jane should be back any moment with- ah! There she is. Put the tray by the window, girl!”

Mrs. Danvish shooed Ross out of the way as the girl, a Landed, bobbed a quick curtsey without upsetting the tea service, before hurrying toward the table set before the window seat.

“I shall leave you to settle in, darling,” Steve said, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek. “My study is on the first floor off your library if you need to find me, or send one of the maids to collect me and I will return to you.”

Lizzy wanted to pout and ask him to stay with her but knew all too well how busy he must be. He was an Earl and a Colonel. It was likely he had many missives to answer after being away these last few days. “Will you come collect me for dinner?”

He smiled gratefully down at her. “Of course, sweet dove. I look forward to it.” Steve shifted his focus to Mrs. Danvish. “See the door between the suites is unlocked. Elizabeth is to have whatever access she wishes to my rooms.”

“Of course, my lord Earl.” Mrs. Danvish beamed and curtsied. “I promise to take excellent care of your lady.”

“I know you will, Mrs. Danvish.” Steve collected Lizzy’s hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “She’s my queen.”

A host of giggles and sighs erupted around the room, but Lizzy could no more look away from Steve than he could from her. “Alpha. Until later.”

“Until later,” he purred, turned her hand and inhaled at her wrist before stepping back. “Ross. With me.”

“My lady.” Ross offered her a bow and scurried after Steve.

“I’ve been a mate thirty years, but I never tire of seeing an alpha find his omega,” Mrs. Danvish murmured, then smiled at Lizzy. “Come, Lady Heartright. Let us get you settled on the window seat, and I will introduce you to your maids.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Danvish. I find I am rather tired of a sudden.” And hungry now that the scent of tea and sweets filled the air.

“Of course you are, my lady.” She shooed Lizzy toward the wind. “You rest yourself there a spell, and if you don’t mind the bustle of the rest of us, we will see your things settled while you take in the view.”

Lizzy sat and glanced out the window, only to gasp softly at the wonderful vista. “And here he said his garden needed help.”

Across the lake which surrounded the castle sat a wooded area where hedges had been cut to create mazes lined with gravel pathways, and in the distance, she could just make out a stone rotunda set at the edge of the water, a white bridge connecting the structure to the land. Beyond it, peeking through the canopy of foliage, a roof of shining glass glinted back at her.

“Is that an orangery?” Lizzy asked, taking the cup of tea offered by the Landed girl, Jane.

“It is, my lady.” Mrs. Danvish bustled toward a pair of doors to the left of the white-mantled fireplace and began sorting through her keys. “It’s a travesty of overgrowth, as is the rest of the garden. His lordship’s attention has been focused on the war, and it has slipped his notice. Not that I’m in anyway casting blame. Though, if I were, t'would be on that Napoleon fellow. Too big for his britches he is. Tis just a shame. The Earl often speaks of the garden parties his lady mother held with such fondness.”

Lizzy squinted a little. “It doesn’t look so bad from here.”

“I assure you, my lady. It is quite worse than it looks from here.” Mrs. Danvish approached Lizzy’s dark blue trunk and reached for the latches.

“Oh! No! I’ll take care of that one.” A blush filled Lizzy’s cheeks when the older woman straightened and smiled knowingly. “They’re…”

“I know, dear. I may be past the blush of my youth, but I am still omega, even if I was born of humble roots.”

Lizzy nodded slowly, relieved in a way to have someone in the house who understood her. There were a lot of betas and alphas, but what omegas claimed a home in this weyr seemed few and far between. “Thank you, Mrs. Danvish, for your kindness.”

“Of course, my lady. Of course. I will see the girls are properly instructed when it comes to seeing to your nest.”

Again Lizzy felt some of the tension flow out of her. “It appears you are sent by the gods, Mrs. Danvish.”

The woman smiled and nodded her thanks before bustling into the dressing room to hurry the other maids along.

“Can I get you anything else, milady?” Jane asked.

Lizzy glanced up but shook her head. “Thank you, Jane. I am content for the moment.”

She bobbed a quick curtsey and went to assist the others, leaving Lizzy to her thoughts as she gazed out the window at the garden.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none
> 
> This update brought to you thanks to @sarahmatthews7 through Coffee Updates. Thank you for your love and support.

## Chapter Eleven

* * *

Lizzy hummed softly in pleasure with the last sip of her chamomile tea. Her riding habit hung in her dressing room, the hem brushed and dirt shaken from the skirt. With the assistance of Jane and Mary, her newly appointed lady’s maids, Lizzy had changed into her favourite day dress, one of pale lavender and white stripes. Jane had found the case with Lizzy’s hairpins, reworking the mess of curls into a semblance of order. Steven had knocked the mass free of its confines when he’d taken down her hat, but Lizzy didn’t mind. Tying it into braids and wrapping it beneath her bonnet had never appealed to her. She much preferred collecting it into a bun and tucking the mess in a hat she then held down with pins.

Fortunately, Jane was sympathetic to Lizzy’s plight, and most accomplished at taming the unruly curls. Swept back and pinned high, a ribbon dangling with seed pearls corralling them into a coiffure of tiny braids and twists. It was elegant, pretty, and something Pepper would wear. It was a hairdo befitting the Lady of the House.

Just the idea of becoming Lady Denton caused Lizzy’s heart to flutter. An Earl’s mate. She’d never even imagined it, though, honestly, had Steven been naught but another soldier in the ranks, or even a baker, Lizzy still would have gone willingly into his arms.

He was her alpha. There was no denying that.

Lizzy's gaze drifted to the doors Mrs. Danvish had unlocked. Alone for the first time, the curiosity of what lay beyond built until she pushed to her feet, skirted the tea service, and made her way across the room to stand before the doors. Her hand shook as Lizzy opened them, then his scent, that wonderful alpha scent, washed over her and made Lizzy shiver. It was intoxicating.

She gave the door a small push, and it swung inward to reveal a dark, very masculine suite. The thick, patterned carpet muffled her steps as she made her way into the room. As she'd expected, his bed was the biggest Lizzy had ever seen.

Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, she traced her fingers over the soft royal blue and purple bedspread. The headboard was cast iron covered in silver leaf. Exquisite and far more ornate than she'd ever seen. Stunning enamelled side tables and dark furniture all made her think of Steven. The lair suited her alpha.

Lizzy sat on the side of his bed. Her heart beat a swift rhythm. She felt like a thief in the night sneaking into a sultan's palace when she reached for one of his pillows and brought it to her nose. It smelled so good. Like pine trees and warmth and the musk of  _ alpha _ . She wanted to drown in that scent. Roll in it and soak in it until it covered her completely.

Suddenly, the desire to nest, to blend her scent with his was overwhelming. Lizzy scrambled up and hurried back into her suite. She giggled while releasing the buckles on the trunk containing all the things her omega had longed for. Silks and velvets. Cotton covers for the pillows, and her pride and joy, sheets edged in French lace. What an expense they had been, but she’d needed only to run her hand over them before her omega had fairly roared  _ mine _ !

With her arms full, Elizabeth returned to Steven’s bed and set her treasures on the stool at the foot. He’d claimed sleeping in her nest, makeshift though it were, was the best rest he’d had in years. She planned on seeing it stayed that way and got to work removing the pillows and turning down the bedding. The bedspread she would leave, and the thick, down stuffed duvet, though how she would bear such a thing with the heat of her alpha wrapped around her she did not know. The base sheet covering the cotton stuffed mattress would remain but the one top sheet she would replace with her precious silk and lace one.

The thought crossed her mind that alphas hoarded things to please their omega, but omegas, too, created their own little hoards — ones of nesting things that would make their alphas happy. It made her giggle as she got to work.

Carefully she rolled everything down to the foot of the bed and removed the sheet. This she folded and placed on the floor. The bed in her suite had been stripped of all but the basics, and Lizzy decided she sneak Steven’s sheet into that bed. Even if Hope and Natasha were right and there would be times she felt the need for solitude, Lizzy doubted she’d ever want to sleep without the scent of Steven in her nose. It made her head spin a touch when she came to the conclusion she was, essentially, creating two nests, but when she thought about the collection she’d amassed, she didn’t think it would be difficult. It was a blending of two beds into two bedrooms.

At least the pale violet sheets wouldn’t clash with the Colonel’s darker collection. If anything it would soften the harsh masculinity, giving the nest a blend of femininity. It was a merging and blending of them both.

The door at her back opened, startling Elizabeth into spinning around in fright. The beta before her appeared just as surprised, setting them both staring at the other.

“Begging your pardon, milady. I was coming to prepare the Earl’s dinner things. I didn’t know you would be in here.” The man bowed his head.

“You must be the Colonel’s valet,” she smiled kindly, relaxing a little. He dressed as one of the homes upper servants, quite smartly so in his sharply pressed trousers, striped waistcoat, and crisp black jacket. The collar of his shirt was so highly starched, it appeared capable of deflecting a sword blow, and his shoes so polished, Lizzy swore she could catch her reflection in them.

“Dugan, ma’am. Timothy Dugan. I’ve been with the Earl since before he was a Captain. Perhaps I should leave you to your work. I don’t want to disturb you.”

His kind blue eyes filled with worry as his rust coloured brows drew together above them. Even his heavy mustache appeared to become downturned with his concern. “You have work, and so do I. I’m certain we can stay out of each other's way, Mr. Dugan.”

“Just Dugan, milady. I think it best if I check in with the Earl first. Excuse me.” He bowed to her and swiftly shut the door.

Lizzy blinked twice at it before shrugging and returning to her nest. She smoothed down the silk sheet and returned the duvet and bedspread to it, but folded them down halfway, allowing the pretty lace and silk to show. Then she stripped pillows, placed them in new linens, tucked them around as she preferred, and added the ones of velvet and silk and the one of silver-grey damask so soft she simply had to rub it on her cheek before adding it to the bed.

With a giddy giggle, she scooped up the discarded sheet and pillow linens and raced back into the opposite suite where she tossed them on the spare bed and returned to her trunk. Lizzy riffled through, picking and discarding items until she was satisfied that everything she wanted in her nest was present. The final item from her chest was a pelt of thick black fur she rolled out and laid on the floor to the left side of the bed. There was nothing worse than a cold floor to place one's warm feet on in the morning.

Lastly, she made her way to the settee before the fire and added her white wool blanket to it. Steve’s scent was quite strong there, indicating he used it often. She hoped it could be a place they could now share in the evening. 

Lizzy set her hand on the back of the seat and turned to view her nest. It was a pile of inviting pillows, soft fabrics, and sensual decadence, exactly as she’d always imagined.

It looked so inviting, she made her way closer, toed off her slippers, and settled in the center of the decadent nest. She’d always wondered if she’d been out of her mind collecting the number of fabrics and pillows, and throws, and blankets she had, but with the sheer size of Steven’s bed, it all fit beautifully. Lizzy burrowed a little deeper, adoring how their scents were slowly blending.

It was perfect. Everything was perfect. She was so happy. Laying on her side, she gave her wings a gentle flick, extending them outward. So comfortable and so comforted by the intoxicating aroma around her, Lizzy drifted into dreams between one breath and the next.

***

“Colonel?” Steve paused at the top of the stairs to look at Ross. “If you'll permit me, sir, to assume the part of your valet. It appears your cravat has come undone.”

Steve couldn't contain his smile but motioned for Ross to proceed. “It had assistance in its undoing.”

Though Ross chuckled, he did not comment on the situation. He could have, Steve took no issue with the people around him speaking their mind. Ross, like Mrs. Danvish, had been with him some time, but where Mrs. Danvish could be quite blunt, Ross stuck to the rules of propriety like there were laws.

“There you are, Colonel.”

“Thank you, Ross.” Steve continued down the stairs.

“Might I also offer my congratulations, sir. Lady Heartright seems a lovely young woman.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Thank you, Ross. She’s a very special omega.”

“I imagine so, sir, to be your queen.”

He chuckled and turned into the hall. “She is the missing piece to my weyr, but enough about Elizabeth for the moment. Tell me what news from the front?”

“Your absence has been noted. The French have pushed back, but for the moment the lines are holding. A message arrived from General Fury this morning.”

Steve hummed and made his way into his office and toward his desk where three piles of messages waited. “Dear Gods, man! I was only gone three days!”

“I know, sir. These are addressed to you as the Colonel. These to the Earl of Denton. While these were… much less formally addressed.”

Steve sat and fluffed his wings out to either side of the narrow backed chair before picking up the first of three cards addressed to Steven Rogers. The flowing and elegant writing arched his brow. When he turned it over, he sighed. “Why must she keep doing this?”

“I’m sorry, my lord. I can have it returned unopened if you wish?”

“That is probably for the best, but I will include a note with it asking her to cease with this foolishness. I’ve found my omega.” Ross was already drawing forth fresh parchment from the shelves behind Steve’s desk, and placing it before him, along with quill and ink. “I know you’re efficient, Everett, but are you trying to tell me something?” Steve teased.

A wry smile quirked Ross’s lips. “Forgive my impertinence, my Lord Earl. It is just… you have a lovely lady. I would hate for her to be upset by Miss Martin’s persistence. The sooner this is put to rest, the better.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “You’re quite right. I must make sure and explain Miss Martin to Elizabeth as well. With the damage Barnes has caused Miss Stark, I’m afraid it has made Elizabeth a touch sensitive to rejection.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Ross muttered, then snapped swiftly to attention. “Begging your pardon, milord.”

“He's a right fool,” Steve grumbled. “No one will fault you for your irritation with Lord Barnes.” He swiftly scratched out a message, asking Miss Martin to end her foolish pursuit. It was unbecoming and far too forward for a woman of her standing. Steve stated quite bluntly they did not suit, he had entered a mating contract with Lady Heartright and informed the woman any new letters would be returned unopened. He signed it the Earl of Denton, effectively shutting down any hope the woman had for further contact.

Steve folded the letter, sealed it with wax, and pressed his signet ring into it before handing the lot off to Ross. “See those sent off first thing in the morning.”

“The morning, sir?”

He looked up at the puzzled beta. “I will be claiming my mate tonight. I want no interruptions and will not take the chance of Miss Martin doing something foolish.”

Ross inhaled sharply. “You think she would dishonour herself by coming here?”

“The woman has been obsessed with me since we danced one dance three years ago. I made her no promise, no vow. We had no understanding between us, yet she will not stop begging for it. I believe she would make a right fool of herself if she thought she’d lost out to another omega.”

“Then I will see these missives delivered in the morning once you are firmly off the market, my lord.”

Steve arched a brow and smirked at Ross. “That was quite cheeky of you, my friend.”

“Well.” He straightened his jacket and motioned to the other letters. “You’ve quite a few requests from the village.”

Between the two of them, they worked their way through Steve’s missives. Ross, though he didn’t look it, was a crack tactician with a brilliant mind. Though it had been Steve’s idea to implement a blended law enforcement unit in the Landed village, it had been Ross who’d made mention of building the Aeries as a way to better oversee the town. He’d also assisted Steve in writing the laws that governed the people, protecting the interests of both winged and Landed alike.

They were well into late-afternoon when a quiet knock came to the door. Steve looked up and frowned. “Dugan?”

“Begging your pardon, milord for interrupting your work.” Wings of russet ruffled, betraying his discomfort.

“T'is fine, Dugan. Come in. What seems to be the problem?” Steve glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “I thought you would mid-dinner preparations about now?”

If Dugan had had a hat, it would be twisted into knots with the man’s nervous fidgeting. “I was, milord. That is to say, I was going to, but your lady is… preoccupied in your suite and I…”

The surge of Steve’s alpha and the whip of  _ Will _ which accompanied it, had both betas baring their throats with a tilt of chin. “You were alone with my omega?”

“No, milord!” Dugan’s wings snapped tight to his back. “I only opened the door. I didn’t enter, though your lady wasn’t troubled by my presence. I came to ask your permission to prepare your dinner attire whilst she was nesting. I would never presume to-”

Steve held up one hand for silence and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. “No, Dugan, forgive me. With her yet unclaimed I am a trifle… boorish. Of course, you would have no ill intention toward Lady Elizabeth.” He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Ross, we’ll finish with this tomorrow. Dugan, I’ll return with you. Hearing Elizabeth has been nesting has quite broken my concentration.” And awakened his alpha’s urgency to slake his lust on the pretty omega waiting for him upstairs.

“Yes, milord.” Both men said together, a knowing glance causing them to pass a smile between them.

Ross turned to tidy up, while Steve followed Dugan from the room and down the hall. “I must say, milord, you are looking spry compared to when you left. You aren’t even limping anymore.”

He could feel the leg a touch still as he climbed the stairs, but it was much improved. “My omega has a way with herbs. Her skills with doctoring and surgery would put to shame many an army physician.”

“Is that right?” Dugan grinned. “She met Doctor Banner yet?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I was hoping Banner would be here to greet her, but his absence is forgiven.” Bruce would be worried about upsetting her, but she was too kind and understanding for that. At the door to his suite, he paused and shot a glance at Dugan. “Give me a moment?”

“Of course, milord.” He turned his back to the wall and did his best not to smile.

Steve rolled his eyes, aware they were all amused at his instincts turning him into an overbearing alpha. It didn’t matter, though, because he could no more ignore them than he could stop being an alpha.

He pushed the door inward, slipped through, and shut it so swiftly he almost caught his primaries. But his sweet omega was napping in her nest, and by the Gods, what a nest. It looked luxurious and soft, full of expensive fabrics and pillows. Laid out in a pretty lavender gown with her white wings resting behind her, she appeared a regal queen in her bed. Shakespeare's Titania asleep in her bower.

He was drawn to her, to the sweet scent of roses, and sat on the side of the bed. Her breasts swelled against the neckline of her gown with every breath and set an ache in his loins. His need to touch her was all consuming. So much so he rumbled out a purr of pleasure.  

Gently he shifted around, working to keep his boots off the bed. Steve walked his fingertips up her arm, lightly caressed her sleeve, and cupped the back of her neck. Her lashes fluttered, but her eyes didn’t open. Steve smiled and ducked his head to brush his lips over hers. Hers parted on a sigh. Then her tongue pressed against his lips. He chuckled, his purr filling the room with the noise and opened for her exploration. Desire bloomed thick and sweet like honey.

A slow twist of her tongue flooded his senses. Her fingers found the buttons on his jacket and waistcoat and plucked them open until she could smooth her hands over his body. “Mm, alpha.”

“What a treat to find my precious dove sleeping in her nest. You smell so sweet, darling. You look so soft and beautiful.” He rubbed his thumb on her throat, making her squirm even as she purred in pleasure.

“I finished, and it looked so good and smelled so nice, I had to try it out.”

He ran his nose along her jaw and licked at her throat. “After tonight, it will smell even better.” She shivered and whimpered causing her beautiful scent to bloom like the roses it resembled. “But first we must make it through dinner.”

She groaned and rolled into him. “But you’re here, and you’re warm, and you smell so damn good, Steven.”

“I know, love, but it is nearly time to dress for dinner. Dugan waits outside to see to my attire, and your maids will be returning anon to assist you with yours.”

She huffed a sigh but tilted her chin up to look at him. “I met him. Your valet seems nice. He could have stayed and readied your clothing.”

“No, my dove, he couldn’t have. You’re my omega and until my mark rests upon your throat, being alone even with someone as close to me as Dugan is… untenable to me.”

Her brow arched with amusement. “My territorial alpha.”

“Can you blame me? You are the most exquisitely beautiful queen in existence. Until you are irrevocably my mate, I may act the territorial ass.”

Lizzy burst out laughing and sat up to smile down at him. “Well then, it is a good thing there is only part of a day remaining until you can stop being a territorial ass.”

He sat up and yanked her into his lap so he could stroke his fingers down the bare patch of skin between her wings. “At least where the servants are concerned. I may continue to be rather possessive when it comes to people outside our weyr.”

She shivered beneath the gentle petting and gave a wanton growl. “My good Earl, if you keep tempting me we won’t make dinner at all.”

“I’m beginning to see the merit in such a thing,” Steve purred, dragging his nose down her throat to rest at the apex of her cleavage. “It’s been too long since I touched you, Elizabeth.” The wide neckline of her gown made for such a fetching display, he found himself yearning for the taste of her skin and swept his tongue over her breast.

Lizzy gave a quiet gasp when it came dangerously close to her nipple. “Steven.” When he did it again, catching the pebble ridge of her areola, her hand buried in his hair and held him against her.

“Omega.” With his heart pounding out a fast beat, Steve dragged her closer and panted softly against the gland beneath her ear. His teeth ached, and his vision was coloured red, moments away from giving in to his desire to simply lay her back in her nest and have his way with her, supper be damned!

A quiet knock sounded on the door into Elizabeth’s room before opening with a soft call of, “Milady?”

“In here, Jane. I’ll be right there.”

A low growl rippled from Steve. “You need to stay right here.”

“I thought you were the one who said we had to make it through dinner?” Lizzy giggled.

“I have changed my mind. I’m the Earl. I can do that.”

She giggled again and gently patted his cheek. “My big, strong, pouty alpha. It’s but a few hours to spend with the people of your weyr. I’m certain they’ve missed you as much as I would even if you were away only days. You wouldn’t want Peter to resent me because I take up all your time.”

He huffed another irate sound. “He wouldn’t.”

“He might. He doesn’t know me well enough yet to see I would never do that.”

Soft hands glided down his chest in soothing strokes, and Steve slowly began to relax, bit by bit, until the red in his vision receded. Still, he ducked his head and scraped his teeth over where her mark would go. “Soon, ‘mega.”

“Very soon,” she purred her agreement. Steve relaxed his hold on her and watched as she turned a little shy. “Do you… like my nest?”

They’d made a bit of a mess of it, but he nodded. “It is very regal, darling. Soft but luxurious. I’ve never seen a more comfortable looking bed.”

She breathed out and smiled, sending notes of  _ happy, calm, relief _ into the air around her. “Good. I want you to like it. I want you to be comfortable here.”

“Lizzy, my darling, you built it. There is nowhere I would rather be than in it with you.” She beamed up at him, radiating her joy. “Come, sweet dove. Time to endure for propriety's sake.”

She took his hand when he stood and helped her from the bed. “You’ll have me all to yourself all night.”

“Yes,” he smiled wickedly and bowed over her hand. “I will, won’t I?”

Lizzy gave one final shiver before extracting her fingers and heading for their adjoining door. At the threshold, she paused and looked back, a hint of red in her eyes. “You certainly will… alpha.”

She ruffled her wings, sending rainbow rippling through her feathers, cast him a final heated glance, and moved beyond his sight. The door shut, and Steve gave a low, hungry growl.

It was going to be a very long dinner.

***

Constance smiled even though she didn't feel like it, and finally escaped to her room. Everyone was so kind, but she couldn't help feeling like an oddity they all pitied. She was the omega rejected by her alpha — a broken woman whose heart had shredded with his callous denial.

She was putting on a decent front, stiff upper lip and all that, but inside Constance felt like there was a hole where her heart once was. A gaping chasm of black nothingness too vast to span, and too deep to climb out of.

With a few days between Lord Barnes’ rejection and leave-taking, Constance had managed to distance herself from the pain, but it had all come screaming back with the first glimpse of him.

How dare he stand before her and speak her name! How dare he appear so unaffected by her presence! How dare he tear the hole where her heart had been into deeper furrows and make them bleed! And how dare he be a part of a weyr so wonderful she could have found a second home there.

Natasha and her confidence could have given Constance such courage. Barton would have filled her up with laughter. Hope and Scott and their beautiful hatchling and the love the three of them shared would have kept Constance hoping for a future. And Wanda, sweet, lovely Wanda who Jarvis was so smitten with it was adorable had a fire in her Constance ached to emulate.

But no. She couldn't be part of this place, this wonderful place, and see  _ him _ , day after day, week after week. She would go mad with grief. She already felt that way. Like the hole inside her would eventually engulf her and drag her into such darkness she would never again be happy.

Constance stopped in the hall and rested against the wall, fighting back the urge to cry. She knew if she did it would rile up the entire household. But being inside was beginning to feel unbearable. The walls were closing in. She longed for the open skies and a chance to spread her wings, but it would be another week and a half before she could fly away and let the air fill her feathers. When the whiff of fresh air wafted under her nose, she followed it to a narrow stairwell that led up and up and up until it ended at a door she pushed against and nearly cried out in relief when it opened onto the roof of the keep.

Surrounded in waist-high stone walls, she walked the edge and looked out over the lake. The Colonel had spoken of Shield Manor as if it were simply another keep like Iron or Winter hall, but this was no country home. It was a castle and surprised her with its elegance and size.

The sun was warm, but Constance had a hard time feeling any pleasure in the heat. But when the wind blew over the roof of the keep and across her face, she sighed and stretched her wings out, letting it ruffle her feathers. She closed her eyes and let herself pretend she was flying. For the moment, it was enough.

A scrape of a boot had her gasping and spinning around to face the person intruding on her. “Who’s there?”

“Pete- Peter,” came the shy voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” The boy from earlier with the incredible wings peeked around the doorway.

Constance found herself smiling genuinely for the first time in days. “It’s alright, Peter. Did I stumble upon a secret place of yours?”

The boy shook his head and crept out to stand shyly by the door. “No, miss. Sometimes the manor’s feel… tight.”

She knew just how he felt and turned back to the view of the lake. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“I do. We ladies are expected to be shy and retiring, but some of us, Lizzy and I, for instance, find the world far too big and exciting to spend life confined indoors. She has always been the kind to help others, but I’ve always been more inclined to getting into trouble.” She smiled over her shoulder and gave him a mischievous wink. “I am the daughter of Lord Stark, after all. Father is always getting into and out of trouble. It stands to reason I would also have that luck.”

“Lord Stark makes the neatest things.”

“That he does.”

He fluttered closer, but kept enough distance between them he could get away if she tried anything. “I make things too. Nothing like his inventions, but I like to tinker.  The Colonel lets me take the broken ones apart so I can see how they work.”

“I could likely get you copies of father’s plans if you wish.”

“Really?”

She looked his way, and there was such a yearning she vowed to find him something. The urge to mother the poor lost boy was so strong, it dragged her despondent omega out of the well of shame it had crawled into. “I will do my best.” She took a step toward him but stopped when he stiffened and returned to looking out over the lake. “I could introduce you to him when he and my mother attend the ball. If you’d like?”

His wings snapped open then closed, his anxiety ripe in her nose. “I don’t like meeting new people. Especially alphas. No alphas.” He shook his head.

“That’s alright, Peter. You don’t have to,” Constance soothed.

Some of his anxiousness faded, but the fidgeting remained. “No alphas,” he mumbled.

“No alphas,” she agreed, gently adding a touch of her calming omega to the boy.

“You like this place?” he asked suddenly, but the way he darted his gaze around the roof informed her he meant the roof, not the weyr in general.

“I do.”

“I know other places. Quiet places. Places no one but me goes. I could show you?” he said hopefully before flushing. “If you want.”

“I would love that, Peter, but I’m grounded at the moment thanks to a flight muscle. Could we walk?” He grinned and nodded vigorously. “Then lead the way, my fine gentleman.”

He stepped hesitantly closer, paused, and took another step before offering his arm. “This way, milady.”

It was Constance’s turn to smile brightly when she gently placed her fingertips in the crook of his arm, forgetting for the moment about Lord Barnes and the wound bleeding where her heart had once lived.

* * *

Next chapter coming eventually.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> This chapter brought to you by @scarletraine through Coffee Updates! Thanks for your support!

* * *

Steve gently rapped on the door between the rooms. “Elizabeth?”

“Come in, Steven.”

He pushed open the door and walked in only to smile at the beauty before him. The soft mint of her dress with its delicate embroidery, the silver train and tufted sleeves looked stunning on her, as did the low cut neckline and simple peridot necklace. Her maids were fussing, Jane working a silk cloth over Lizzy’s wings making them shine while Mary finished the last curl of her hair.

“You look lovely, darling,” he smiled and nodded when the maids dropped quick curtsies.

Lizzy pressed her hands to her stomach. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“You need only be yourself to do that.” He made his way toward her and held out his hand.

Soft and tapered, her small one fit in his with room to spare. He brought it to his lips, hoping his eyes showed his appreciation. A blush washed into her cheeks, and _happy, pleased, excited_ filled the air right before her scent of roses flooded his nose.

“Come, darling. We will dine with the others.” He shot a glance at her maids. “You are dismissed for the evening.”

They dropped another round of curtsies.  “Yes, milord.”

Arousal spiked into the air, prompting him to look at Elizabeth. “Do not tempt me, omega,” he murmured, leading her to the door.

“Is it wrong of me to be so… eager?” she asked quietly once they were in the hall.

“Of course not. Your excitement toward this evening simply stirs my own, and I'm finding it very difficult to resist you already, Elizabeth. Knowing there are only hours left until I can make you fully mine…” A deep rumble filled his chest and reddened his eyes.

“Then let us hasten to dinner. I feel I may have the need of sustenance between now and the morning.” She looked slyly up at him, her dark eyes sparkling behind her lashes.

Steve curled his wing around hers. “That you will, my dove.” She shivered, setting him chuckling as he assisted her down the stairs.

Lizzy delicately cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Did you finish your correspondences?”

“Most. I still have a few remaining.” He frowned thinking of the missive Ross would be sending out in the morning. “Elizabeth, there is something I must explain to you.”

“Oh?” She slowed to a stop. “That sounds rather dire, Steven.”

He sighed and bowed his head. “There is another omega-”

She gasped and took a step away from him. “What!”

Steve grasped both of her hands and dragged her forward, wrapping her in his wings to keep her close. “No, not like that!”

She relaxed slowly, her hands uncurling to press to his heart. “Oh. I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion that way.”

He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb along the high arc of bone. “Darling, I only have eyes for you, but as you have had other suitors, I have had others who pursued me. There is an omega, Miss Martin. I danced with her once at a ball three years ago. Since then she’s been quite… persistent in her attentions, unrequited though they are, but I assure you there has been no agreement between us. I only felt pity for her being one of a handful of wallflowers. I thought only to be a gentleman. She’s read far more into it than was intended.”

The wave of mixed emotions around her almost made him smile. Everything from pity to annoyance to understanding floated within the confines of his wings.

“While I understand her desire to seek something more with you, my dear Colonel, I will be most… upset if you continue to have contact with her. You don’t correspond with her, do you?”

He shook his head. “Only in so much as to ask her to cease with her pursuit. I did not even open this last letter, only wrote a reply stating I was now mated and any further contact would not be tolerated. I have avoided writing her father, but if she continues, I will do so.”

“And who is this Miss Martin? Her name is not familiar to me.”

The sharp annoyance in Lizzy’s eyes had darkened them to storm clouds. “Are you getting territorial, my dove?”

She tilted her head up to look at him and peeled her lips back in a deadly snarl, revealing long sharp fangs. “I am not a forgiving omega nor am I passive. I’m a queen. I will shred the feathers from her spine with my nails if she so much as _pines_ from my alpha in my presence.”

Red filled his vision. Steve’s wings snapped open, and he pinned her to the wall so he could ravage her mouth. “Gods, Elizabeth…” That was the most arousing display of aggression he’d ever witnessed on his sweet omega. “My fierce dragoness.” A rumbled growl of approval filled his chest as he pressed his lips to her throat and scraped teeth over her scent gland.

“Steven,” she moaned, digging her nails into his chest.

His wings spread, arching out behind him, a hunter claiming his prey. “We’ll be late for dinner if you keep this up.”

“I did not start this,” she whimpered.

“You started all of this the moment I saw you across the room.” He nuzzled into her, spreading his scent over her creamy skin. “I desire no one but you, omega. I see no one but you, and soon I will take you to my bed and make you mine.”

“Alpha,” she moaned.

He kissed her soft lips, worried the bottom one with his teeth, and squeezed her rounded hips. “I swear to you, Elizabeth. There is no one in this life I want more than you. You are my omega.”

“I believe you, Steven.” She gave a soft sigh and stroked her hands down his chest. “But you didn’t tell me who this Miss Martin is.”

“She is the daughter of an affluent businessman who happened to be friends with the General whose party I was attending. The man is… brash and overly confident. His wealth has made him think he is something more than he is - a beta and barely that with an omega daughter of basic bloodlines.”

“Steven,” she chastised. “That’s rude.”

He sighed and drew his wings back in. “I know, love, but in some cases, one's breeding is rather… telling. So has been the case with Miss Martin. Her forwardness is most unbecoming.”

“Then I hope I never have the misfortune of meeting Miss Marin. I’m afraid my own behaviour might be rather… unbecoming.” She flattened her hand to his chest and gently pushed him back. “Dinner?”

“Of course, darling.” He returned her hand to his arm. “So… you understand? About Miss Martin? I don’t ever want you feeling like I hid this or kept it from you. I swear on my part there was nothing but a moment of offered kindness.”

“I know. You’re an inherently kind man, Steven. If she chose to read more into it than that, that is on Miss Martin.”

Relief filled him. “Thank you, love.” He led her down the corridor into the grand hall and up the short stairs into the opposite wing where already he could hear the excited voices of his weyr.

He walked into the room and paused to take them all in. Clint and Natasha stood off to one side. Barton’s arm was wrapped around her waist while the other hand rubbed one of her many curls between his fingers. Hope and Scott mirrored them almost identically. Wanda sat on the sofa beside Miss Constance while Jarvis stood at her back. The fact that he kept splitting his focus between the woman who was his charge and the fire dragon who kept brushing him with her wing gave Steve a moment of pause before the reality of what he was seeing set in, but the two of them made an odd sort of sense. Wanda’s subtle strength paired well with Jarvis’ quiet stoicism.

But the most surprising pairing was Constance and Peter. The boy was stuck to her side, right against her, hands clasped tightly together, and both appeared far happier and more relaxed than he’d ever seen them.

Only Wilson, Banner, and Barnes were missing. The two he understood, but the third…

“Natalia,” Steve growled softly causing his beta to turn toward him. “Would you be so kind as to inform Dr. Banner his presence at dinner is required.”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding and heading for the door. “I will let him know.”

“Steven, if he doesn’t want to, you shouldn’t force him,” Lizzy said softly, the scent of _upset_ flowing around her.

He gently brushed her with his _Will_ , soothing her with a brush of fingers down her wing. “He is part of this weyr. He will attend meals with the rest of us.”

She nodded slowly and continued into the parlour toward the others who all rose with their arrival. After around of bows and curtsies, Lizzy left his side to drift toward Constance. Such softness, warmth, goodness flowed around her that Peter looked up with eyes full of wonder.

“Constance?” Lizzy held out her hands.

The redheaded omega stretched out her free one and grasped Lizzy. “What a wonderful place, Lizzy! When time permits, you simply must have Peter show you around.”

The boy looked shyly down at his feet, his russet curls falling in his eyes. “I would be ha-happy to.”

“Thank you, Peter. I’d appreciate that.” Lizzy held out her hand, and Peter tentatively brushed his fingers over her palm.

Lizzy's smile was so full Steve couldn't help but catch Peter's eye and nod his approval. The boy had done well to put such a smile on both omega's faces.

“My lords, my ladies,” Ross spoke from the dining room doorway. “Dinner is served.”

Lizzy and Constance both turned to look at him. “Peter, why don't you escort Miss Constance into dinner. I'm afraid we are formal only in our dinner wear and not our table seating.” He held out his hand for Elizabeth who came immediately to his side. “We are all territorial in our choice of partner,” he murmured to her. “I refuse to split up mate pairs for propriety's sake.”

“A decision I wholeheartedly support. I'd rather sit beside you, Steven, then away from you,” she smiled.

He purred a quiet sound and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “Wanda, as Natalia is occupied, would you lead the way?”

“Is my pleasure, Colonel.” She held out her hand to Jarvis. “Vis?”

The man blinked in sudden comprehension. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

Both Lizzy and Constance exchanged an amused glance as Constance followed Wanda with Peter then Hope and Scott, and finally Barton.

“Natasha out ranks Wanda?” Lizzy whispered.

He tilted his head in agreement. “As my beta and second in command after Barnes, yes. Should anything happen to Barnes and me, Wanda is alpha enough to hold the weyr together, but it is Natasha who would command.”

Her breath caught. “I dislike that thought.”

“Nothing will happen to me, ‘mega,” he purred against her ear and followed the others into the dining room. “I welcome your opinion on the meal and the place settings, darling. Anything you notice out of place, I'd be grateful for the input. I'm afraid I am out of step with current fashion.”

“Certainly. Constance and I spent the winter in town with Aunt Pepper. It was... enlightening.”

She snickered and drew his curiosity. “And what trouble did you and your friend get into to cause such amusement?”

“Oh, the usual,” she smirked.

“She's speaking of her bought of clumsiness,” Constance giggled. “Why I don't believe I've ever seen a more butter fingered omega.”

“If one more presumptuous alpha had _accidentally_ fingered my wings I was about to bare fang, dearest you know that,” Lizzy huffed as Steve seated her to his right.

Hope snickered as Scott did the same. “Men can be such beasts.”

“I beg your pardon!” Scott gasped.

“Present company excluded,” she soothed. “But it isn't uncommon for the more dominant of the species to be forward in what they think is an appropriate place to set their fingers. How many times did I smack your hand for having wandering ones?”

“Touché, my love,” Scott murmured.

Steve chuckled and took his seat, motioning for Ross to begin. Mrs. Danvish bustled in a moment later with the servants turned out smartly. White-gloved, they placed the soup course down before each of them at the same time.

Fragrant with leeks and potatoes, Steve smiled at his table and nodded as they all began to eat. Though it was shy two place settings and two more chairs sat empty, he would not hold the meal and cause the cooks to run behind because Banner was being foolish.

Natasha would bring him ‘round, and if she couldn't, Steve would be _highly_ unimpressed with his absence. Did he understand Bruce's desire to make himself scarce? Yes. Was it at all necessary? No.

“How many gentlemen did you spill on during your season?” Wanda asked, clearly amused.

Lizzy chuckled and used her napkin before answering.  “Five at the first ball, three at the second, and then we went to that ghastly masquerade, and I hit an even dozen.”

“Good Gods!” Clint huffed. “Perhaps we should teach your lovely omega to use a knife. Stick one or two people, and you don't usually have any more issues with people getting overly familiar.”

“Is that how Natasha handles you, Master Barton?” Lizzy quipped causing everyone to laugh.

“She's far more nefarious than that, Lady Elizabeth,” he grinned.

Steve smirked at Clint. Leave it to the Hawk to notice his preference for Lizzy's full name and the pleasure his intended mate took in it. Even now she blushed with pleasure. “We will discuss defensive training in the future, Barton.”

“Oh, Lizzy's already quite good with a sword,” Constance smirked.

“Connie!” Elizabeth hissed.

“My darling? Seriously?” Steve was shocked.

“Father has always been overly indulgent of us both,” Lady Stark giggled.

“Constance dear, put a pin in it,” Lizzy huffed, pink colouring her cheeks.

Utterly fascinated, Steve murmured, “I think I'd like to see these skills, my dove.”

“It’s nothing. Just a girlish fantasy Uncle Stark indulged.” She tucked her chin down and focused on eating.

“Now I am even more intrigued,” he chuckled and skimmed his fingers down her arm.

She blushed even deeper. “It was silly. Not at all appropriate for a lady.”

Wanda and Hope both burst out laughing.

“Sweet lady,” Scott chuckled, “all the women of this weyr are more dragoness than house cat.”

“I don’t understand,” Lizzy frowned.

“We all fight,” Wanda chuckled. “That you can is not odd. Is no problem. Is one less thing to teach you, da, Colonel?”

“Exactly,” Steve smiled.

“You would have taught me to fight?” Lizzy asked, stunned.

“If you wished it,” Steve nodded. “It wouldn’t be a requirement, but it is always good for a woman to know how to protect herself.”

“I think you’d know by now, Colonel, Lizzy knows far more than is considered “good” for her,” Constance teased.

“Feathered nuisance,” Elizabeth huffed, but her smile was amused.

Then a small noise at the door had the conversation falling into silence as they all looked up to find Natasha standing beside Bruce. The man looked more nervous than he’d ever seen him.

“Banner, thank you for joining us.” Steve rose as did the rest of the men when Natasha approached the table. Clint held out the chair for his wife as Bruce took the one between Hope and Natasha.

“Forgive me my tardiness,” he murmured. “And lack of… dress.”

Steve tilted his head but was intently watching Lizzy, Constance, and Jarvis. It was rare Bruce met new people and rarer still that someone didn’t react poorly to his very bat-like wings. Jarvis, stoic-faced as ever, merely continued eating, his attention focused on Wanda with only a glance at Bruce.

Constance appeared startled, but Peter lightly touched her arm and caught her eye. Steve wasn’t sure what passed between them, or when they’d become so close, but it appeared to have done them both a world of good. Peter had never been so relaxed around strangers.

However, it was Elizabeth who impressed and pleased Steve when she said, “Doctor Banner, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally. Steven speaks so highly of you.”

“He does?” Bruce muttered, looking up.

“Of course!” she smiled. “I dabble a bit in remedies and things of a medical nature. I would be honoured to hear your opinion on the poultice I used to reduce the Colonel’s infection.”

“You would? You did?” Bruce blinked.

“She did. I’m almost fully healed,” Steve nodded. “She also removed an axe from the shoulder of a child, cauterized the wound successfully stopping the bleeding, and created another salve to use to keep the boy from getting infected. It was masterful!”

Everyone who had not already been privy to that tale stopped eating to stare at Elizabeth in amazement.

“It was nothing,” she murmured, blushing and shooting him a look.

“And she's now mentored the Landed healer to imitate her techniques,” he continued proudly.

“It's called teaching, Steven,” Lizzy grumbled.

“That it is, darling,” he chuckled.

Bruce, whose mouth had gaped open, finally seemed to find his tongue. “How deep was the axe embedded?”

Steve held up his hand and indicated the depth from the tip of his pinky to the second knuckle. “Quite deep.”

“Arterial spray? Infection?” Bruce asked.

“And this makes for pleasant dinner conversation. Bruce, darling, please do shut up,” Natasha murmured.

“I’d be happy to discuss it with you later, Doctor Banner,” Lizzy said sweetly.

Steve motioned to the server with the decanter of Madeira. “Bruce will finally have someone to speak medicine with.” The Landed was newer, recently promoted to serve at the table, and Steve noted the tremble in his hands when he poured the wine. He sent a soft brush of soothing _Will_ around the man to help him calm. Spilling the wine on one of the people at the table would not go well for him.

A small smile from Lizzy was followed by the gentle pressure of her soft omega. The sweet calmness made the man sigh and firmed his hands. Her gesture only affirmed for Steve how perfect she was for his weyr. Already she fit the role of Lady of the House. She was the Countess he’d been longing for. The perfect Queen.

Now, if only he could convince Bucky of the same with his own omega.

***

When dinner finished, and the women retired to the drawing room, Lizzy took a seat beside Constance on the settee. “How are you doing, dearest?”

“Surprisingly… better,” Constance smiled. “Peter is such a sweet boy and so kind. He’s had such a tough life and being in this weyr makes him so happy. I think being around him today, getting to mother him a little soothed some of my heartache.”

“Constance,” Lizzy sighed, leaning into her friend. “If you're truly unhappy here, I won't make you stay. Do you want to go home?”

She shook her head. “No matter how painful seeing _him_ was today, I love it here. This is a magnificent weyr, Lizzy. I find I'm quite jealous of your new home. That and taking Jarvis away from Miss Wanda would be quite cruel.”

Lizzy giggled. “They are quite adorable. He stutters and blushes when she speaks to him. I've never seen the like. He's always been so upright and contained. I fear I've enjoyed his discombobulation quite thoroughly.”

“They do things differently here. This weyr is a tighter unit then ours. Jarvis is father's beta, but he certainly never sat at table with us.”

“No, but then Ross didn't eat with the weyr tonight either. I think Jarvis may need a tick before he can shed his servant’s hat and accept that of mate to an alpha.”

Constance nodded slowly. “I fear Father will need to find a new majordomo.”

“He may at that, but I'm sure they will sort it out. Miss Wanda doesn't seem the type to need him at her heel every hour of the day, and I feel she'd get along well with Aunt and Uncle.” Lizzy smiled when the woman in question sat down at the pianoforte and began to pick out a delicate tune. “You should join her Constance. You love that song.”

“I'm not much in the mood for singing, Lizzy,” she sighed. “My ability to be jovial is… strained.”

“Oh, Connie…”

She smiled sadly. “I can smell him,” she whispered. “Not all the time, but in certain rooms, I'll catch the scent of Lord Barnes and my entire soul aches. What's wrong with me?”

“Nothing!” Lizzy said adamantly. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

“Barnes is a bonehead,” Hope grumbled, arriving with a servant who carried a tray of small glasses and a decanter of sherry. She waved the maid off when the girl made to pour. “I'll see to that. Thank you, Silvie.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The girl dropped a curtsey and left.

“Lady Stark, forgive me if I'm too forward, but your alpha has a stick up his arse.”

Lizzy and Constance inhaled sharply then burst out laughing.

“Hope, how terribly delightful of you,” Natasha snickered from her place beside Wanda.

The brunette waved a dismissive hand. “You ladies will learn we are a weyr of strong opinions and our men are quite aware we won't be shut up or shut down. We speak, they listen. Or they quickly learn to leave before we scorch their tail feathers.”

A smirk twitch Constance's lips. “Lizzy dear, you didn't say anything about the Colonel having tail feathers when you were describing the delightful shape of his arse.”

“Constance Stark!” Lizzy gasped to the delight of the other women.

“Do tell,” Natasha chuckled.

Lizzy shot her a glare. “Do not start, Natasha.”

“Is common for women to speak of such things,” Wanda smiled, finishing her song before rising to join their circle. “Surely your mother explained-” Natasha closed her hand over Wanda's arm, cutting her off.

“It's alright. My parents died when I was but a fledgling. I've lived with Constance and the Starks since I was eleven summers.”

“Oh, is terrible to lose family so young.” Wanda smiled sadly.

“It was, but I wasn't alone.” Lizzy gripped Constance's hand. “I found a new family, a new weyr, and now a new home.”

“You will fit in well here I think,” Hope smiled. “You're both strong women.”

Constance sighed and looked down at her hands. “I believed that once.”

Wanda sank down at the side of Constance and took her free hand. “You are very strong. Is James who has shown his weakness, but he is good man. Give him time to come ‘round.”

“Why bother?” Constance sighed. “He doesn’t want me. He made that perfectly clear.”

“He’s confused and uncertain.”

“He’s my alpha. I’m his omega. What’s so confusing about that?” Constance snapped.

“Constance, no one is trying to upset you or play down your feelings,” Lizzy soothed.

“I don’t want to talk about it any longer. He made his choice.” She lifted her hand to her lips and coughed. “Excuse me.”

Lizzy frowned and sniffed delicately. Something smelled off. “Constance? Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine, Lizzy. It’s only a tickle.” Constance accepted the glass from Hope with a smile.

“Are you sure?” Lizzy murmured.

“Yes! Stop fussing, Elizabeth!” Constance snapped before sighing. “Forgive me, but this night isn’t about me. It’s about you, Lizzy dear.” A smile twitched her lips. “And your alpha.”

Lizzy knew her well enough to know when Constance was evading, but when the rest of the women took the bait, there was little she could do to force Constance to tell her the truth without causing a scene.

“Yes! Our alpha will be firmly off the market by morning,” Hope snickered.

“Stop!” Lizzy laughed, her face turning red.

“Such shyness,” Wanda chuckled. “Yet you already know the shape of his arse well enough to describe.”

They group burst out in laughter as Lizzy burned with her blush. “He’s quite… persuasive when he wants to be.”

“He refused to mate her in a bed not his own.”

“Constance!” Lizzy barked. “I told you that in confidence!” Fresh titters of laughter filled the room, and Lizzy drank the entire glass of sherry in one go. “You’re all terrible.”

“We laugh because we know our alpha. That sounds exactly like him. He’s honourable but incredibly territorial.” Natasha’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she sipped her drink.

“He did warn me he’d still be overly possessive after we mated with people not of this weyr,” Lizzy said.

“Just wait till you find out you’ve clutched. The man won’t leave your side,” Hope smirked.

“But he’s a Colonel. Surely he’ll have to return to the war,” Lizzy murmured, the idea making her sad.

The three women exchanged a look but said no more when the door to the room opened and the men joined them.

Lizzy rose with the rest of the women, smiling as Peter bounced into the room. He was young yet, only fifteen, and while most boys his age would be attending school or training in their future business, she liked that he was allowed to be a boy still after his traumatic childhood.

Then Steven walked in and set his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Lizzy saw only him in the room full of people.

“And what, pray tell, have you been teasing my omega about to have the room smelling of laughter and embarrassment?” he asked.

“I think that is a question you do not want answered, Steve,” Natasha chuckled, gliding across the floor toward her husband. “Wanda? Would you play for us some more?”

“Da.” The woman in red returned to the pianoforte with Jarvis following at her heels like a lost puppy.

Scott beamed as he walked across the room to return to Hope. “Whist?” he asked her, grinning at Bruce who nodded his agreement. “Lady Constance? Care to play a hand?”

“Certainly,” Constance smiled and went to join them at a card table.  

“Peter, come here. You can read to me,” Natasha called, holding out her hand. “I know this one,” she poked Clint in the ribs, “will have let you slack off these last few days with your studies.”

“Aww, Nat,” he whined.

“Now, Peter.”

He whined, and his wings sagged, but he shuffled over to Natasha and Clint, leaving Lizzy standing alone with Steven.

“What just happened?” Lizzy murmured.

Steve took her hand and brought it to his lips. “They are giving us an escape by not including us in any of this evening’s activities.”

Red had begun to wash into his eyes and make Lizzy’s heart pound. “Really?”

He gave her hand a tug, and with a few steps, they were beyond the drawing room doors and into the hall where he dragged her into his arms and kissed her like she’d been dying for him to kiss her these last hours.

“Steven,” she sighed when he released her lips.

“Come, my love,” he purred. “We’ve all night ahead of us.” His wings spread wide, filling the hall with golden feathers.

The heat of desire fired in her belly as he curled his wing around her, herding her down the hall. It made her chuckle even as nerves shook her hands.

“What's so amusing?” he asked, his hand guiding her by the elbow.

“Just something Natasha said.” Lizzy lifted her wings to brush them back against Steven's.

He gave a purr of excitement. “Was my beta telling tales, Elizabeth?”

Pleasure shivered down her spine when his breath washed over her ear. “Not this time,” she smiled up at him.

“Already you band together with the women. Should I be afraid, darling?”

“I don't know,” she teased. “Should you?”

“Cheeky omega,” he growled.

Lizzy giggled and pulled away to dart forward and glide across the great hall, leaving him standing in the opposite doorway. She glanced back over her shoulder, gave her wings a ruffle, and smiled invitingly. “Coming, alpha?”

His eyes went fully red and Lizzy's heart rate spiked. She gathered the front of her gown and raced down the hall, laughing with each stride. It appeared the servants were smart enough to make themselves scarce for the night as no one ventured beyond a door to find out what the ruckus was.

Pounding boots on wood floors sounded behind her as Lizzy grabbed the newel post. A quick sweep of wings sent her to the landing where she turned to watch Steven slide to a halt at the base of the stairs.

“Omega,” he purred.

She lifted her chin, chest heaving with every breath. “Alpha.” He set a foot on the bottom riser, and Lizzy laughed when using a second flick of her wings she landed at the opening to the second floor.

He growled, and the sound rumbled through the hall and in turn her chest. It felt good. Warm and loving, but her omega was driving her to make him work just a little harder. See if he were dragon enough to catch and claim his mate.

Still, the sound that rippled from her was one Lizzy had never heard before. It warbled, high and light and pretty and washed red into her vision.

Whatever restraint Steven had been showing snapped with that sound as he launched himself up the stairs after her.

Lizzy was already laughing, darting down the hall toward the doors to his room, soon to be there's, but the heat of his body collided with her back, and he swung her from her feet to press her firmly into the wall.

“‘Mega,” he rumbled, his nose skimming her shoulder. “Caught you.”

She couldn’t help but gasp and purr with excitement, giving in to the heat and lust filling her body as she relaxed her wings and felt him melt against her spine. His teeth nipped into her shoulder, then up beneath her ear, scraping his long fangs over her flesh. The weight of him against her started a throbbing in her core.

His hands skimmed the length of her arms and down to link their fingers together. “My sweet ‘mega. Say you’ll be mine?”

“Forever,” she sighed, looking back at him over her shoulder.

He drew back, released one hand, and tugged her to him with the other, bringing her to his chest. “Through all of life’s journeys, I will hold you to that, love.”

“Steven.” She curled her fingers into his chest. “I love you. I love it here. Your weyr is wonderful. Please. Make me yours.” His hands framed her face, and he kissed her softly, with so much tenderness she gasped and fought back tears.

His fingers caressed her cheeks with the lightest brush. “Then I have but one question.” Steve took her hand, curled it through his arm and led her the final few steps to the doors that would lead into his suite.

“What question?” she asked when he didn’t say any more.

He smiled, a slight scent of nerves tickling her nose, and opened the door to his room, motioning for her to enter. Lizzy frowned but walked inside where she stopped to stare in shocked wonder. “Oh, Steven.”

Roses filled vases around the room, more had been turned into petals and scattered across the floor. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, and candles glowed on the mantle and flat surfaces, none too close to the bed.

“I wanted tonight to be memorable and romantic,” he said as he shut the door.

Lizzy walked across the room to trace her fingers over the bedding. “My maids?”

“Dugan,” he chuckled. “He’s a romantic at heart.”

“He knew not to touch my nest.” It made her smile at the valet’s care and attention.

“They are all aware of an omega’s preferences when it comes to your nest, darling. Mrs. Danvish made sure to lay down the law about disturbing it.”

She smiled because Mrs. Danvish was also omega and would know how fiercely a nest is guarded. “So what were you going to ask-” Lizzy gasped as she turned around and found her alpha on one knee. “Steven?”

“Elizabeth Heartright. This has been a gale storm few days. Everything has happened so fast, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that you are mine. My mate, my omega, my life. Before I take you to that bed and make you my mine, will you marry me?” From his inner pocket, he brought forth a gold filigree ring with a cluster of diamonds at its peak.

Tears burned before a single crystal drop dripped down her cheek. Her strong, handsome alpha knelt at her feet, his wings spread out humbly behind him in supplication with hope and unending love in his eyes. 

Emotion choked her throat when she cried, “Yes! Of course, yes!”

He was on his feet kissing her, his wings wrapped tightly around them both even as he slid the ring on her finger. One kiss became two, then three, then moved on to become teasing lips sucking on the flesh where his bonding mark would shine forevermore.

“I love you, darling. So much already. Let me show you?” he purred.

She reached up, cupped his cheek, and smiled. “Yes, Steven. A thousand times, yes.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by @iwillwakeherinthemorning through Coffee Updates! Thanks for your support! Special mention to @colbalt-gear and @georgiadean37 who also bought coffees at the same time. Two more chapters in the near future (when my brain begins to work again) thanks to them!
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: Smut, biting, smexy and fluff

 

* * *

Brooding. Bucky had never been one to brood over a female. Before the war, before the French captured him, before all of it, if he found a female attractive he acted. Yes, he'd been a bit of a rake, never so much so that he made promises or sullied a lady's character, but he'd had his fun.

Then he'd spent weeks in a dungeon. He'd been racked, beaten, starved. They'd plucked him like a chicken, and clipped his wings like some caged songbird. Except, the song they wanted him to sing was the agony of screams. Even now he woke to the remembered sound of his own hollow, broken voice begging for death. 

And they wanted him to be an alpha? There were days he could barely function in his own weyr where the thought of being indoors was intolerable, where the lightest brush on his wings saw him reacting in violence. He was not capable of seeing to an omega. He was not Steve.

But, by the Gods, her scent tormented him. She was jasmine and rain, and sun-warmed feathers. Her hair was a cascade of flames, and she had wings of such soft beauty. They were the embers of her flame-bright mane, charcoal and black like the coals which smouldered and burned hot long after the fire had died.

She was a woman he knew he could burn with. Burn bright and fast, but what would become of them when he woke from a night terror to find her trembling, curled in a ball and crying after taking his fist because he couldn't tell dream from reality?

She would break him when she left him. And she would leave him. He was no alpha. He was nothing.

“You will wear a hole in the rug with all your pacing,” Sam sighed.

“It's my rug,” Bucky growled and made a second round of the room. “You should be at dinner.”

“I should be right here.” He rose and poured two tumblers of brandy. “Keeping you from doing something stupid.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I did that earlier when I went to stand with Peter. I should have let Wanda handle it.”

“Yes, you should have,” Sam agreed.

“I only made things worse.”

“Yes, you did.” He sipped his drink.

“Natalia is going to skin me.”

“Yes, she will.”

Bucky glared at him. “How are you my beta when you're a complete pain in the arse?”

“How are you my alpha when you're a bloody idiot?” Sam grumbled into his drink.

“Watch yourself, Wilson.”

“I'm just saying-”

Bucky cut him off with a flick of his wing. “You've been "just saying" for three days. Let it go, Wilson!”

“Not until you admit you're a bone head!”

“Better a bone head now than feral later!” he bellowed. “She would not stay once she knew of my failings. She would leave, and I would not return from that. I am not an alpha who could handle that. I would run feral, and I would welcome death.”

“Barnes,” Sam sighed.

Bucky turned away. “Leave me.”

“I refuse.”

“Then do something useful and take my mind off Miss Stark.” He motioned to the chessboard. “I will play you a round.”

“Done, but no whining when I win.”

“Wilson, when have you ever won?” Bucky snickered.

***

Steve lingered over her lips, kissing her sweetly, softly, with all his heart. She could taste it on his tongue. His hands were gentle on her when he sought the tie at the back of her neck and pulled it free sending her gown from her shoulders to pool on the floor. Then his hands lifted to begin removing the pins from her hair.

“You’re so beautiful, ‘mega,” he purred, lifting a handful of her hair to his nose. “I want to devour you.”

“Steven,” she sighed, pulling at his cravat until it hung loose, then started in on his buttons.

He stood patiently as she undressed him, sliding his jacket off his shoulders until it slipped from his wings before undoing the ties at the sides of his waistcoat, his buttons, and pushing that garment to the ground. His suspenders buttoned on the front of his trousers and she moved them down his shoulders to hang from his hips. She tugged his shirt from his waistband and opened the front placard on his pants. They fell down his legs to the floor, leaving him standing there in his short pants and stockings, his shirt hanging free around his hips.

Lizzy light stroked her hands over his chest. “I’m… strangely nervous,” she whispered, the light flashing from her ring.

He took the last pin from her hair and set it aside, then cupped her face. “So am I, but we will find our way. Together.”

She slipped her hands beneath his shirt and relished the heat of his skin as she reached around and undid the ties holding the shirt together beneath his wings, and worked her hands up his body to tug it over his head. Steve sent it to the floor with a shake of his arms.

Firelight made his skin glow as gold as his wings, and she couldn’t help but touch him, slide her hands over soft, smooth skin and explore all that muscle.

“Elizabeth,” he purred, stroking her shoulders and gently caressing the swells of her breasts. “Turn around.”

She faced the bed and pulled her hair forward to give him access to the ties of her stays. Warm, callused fingers skimmed down the curve of her spine and began undoing them. They fell to the ground when he returned his hands to her shoulders and lifted the straps from her, pushing them down along with her petticoat, and leaving her standing in her shift, stockings, and slippers.

Hot breath washed over her skin before his lips were pressed between her wings. Lizzy hummed as pleasure streaked up her spine. Her wings relaxed, and his hands delved into the feathers.

She arched and purred in pleasure, her skin warming beneath the gentle attention. He worked his lips up her spine and over her shoulder where he nipped sharp teeth and set her knees quaking. His hands snuck around her waist and lifted to cup her breasts, squeezing and plucking her nipples through her shift. A quiet moan escaped, prompting a purr to ripple from Steve.

His fingers slowly began to collect her shift, drawing it up beneath her breasts, baring her belly. He gave the ties of her undergarments a pull and sent them skimming down her legs to pool around her feet before hot fingers spread over her stomach and kneaded into her belly.

“Steven,” she whimpered.

“You smell so good, ‘mega. Like sweet honey.” His fingers delved down between her legs and brushed her curls. Delved deeper and found wetness. “Sweet, ‘mega. So soft,” he whispered against her ear.

“Steven,” she moaned, clutching at his wrists.

“Shh, love,” he crooned pushing her shift from her shoulders and leaving her bare but for the stockings and slippers.

An almost painful sounding groan erupted from his lips, then his hands were stroking, touching, caressing every inch of her. They spanned her waist and traced her ribs, sought out the fluffy down at the base of her wings and followed the curve of her buttocks. Then they were gone from her and clothing rustled at her back.

Lizzy glanced over her shoulder in time to watch Steven shove his shorts and stockings down together, revealing more firelit skin and the bandage around his thigh. “You should let me check that for you before we continue.”

Eyes of red and blue lifted to lock her in place. “Dugan took care of it before dinner.”

“But I-” He stood to his full height, cutting off her words with the arch and spread of his wings.

She turned to face him, a quiver in all her limbs. Faced with the sheer size of him and knowing where things were finally going to progress to, a slight tremble of fear filled her. His nostrils flared, then he had her by the waist, hot flesh pressed to hot flesh and made her whimper.

“There is nothing to be afraid of, my dove. I would never hurt you.” He bent and ran his nose along her cheek and over her jaw. “You’re so perfect. So beautiful.”

Her hands lifted to drift over his arms, cling and hold to his elbows as nerves became desire. Her wings relaxed down her back, and she softened into his hard body. “Alpha…”

Steve stroked his hands up her spine, tickling the down at the base of her wings as he went then carding his fingers through her hair. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his lips catching and brushing with hers.

Lizzy gave a soft purr and flexed her nails into his arms. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own when they followed the bulk of his muscles up to his shoulders and over her chest. Touching him was fast becoming her new favourite thing. Then his arms were around her, lifting her up by the waist to take her to their bed. It made her giggle just a little, and he smiled, showing a fang.

Red washed in and out of his eyes, and with every step he took, his scent grew stronger, muskier, thicker until she felt drugged by it. Like it had soaked into her lungs and saturated her soul.

“I’m going to lay you in the center of your nest and touch you… everywhere.”

A shiver streaked her spine: excitement and lust. Lizzy curled her wings making it easier to maneuver, then let them settle to the bedding to either side of her as Steven lowered to his knees.

Quiet hands touched the bows on the edge of her high stockings. “You're beautiful, Elizabeth,” he said, his gaze travelling over all of her.

A blush burned through her chest and up her neck, but she didn't move to cover herself, only lifted a foot when he began to roll her stocking down and remove the slipper from her foot. They went off the side of the bed with a soft thunk.

“I don't want to hurt you accidentally, my love. Let's tuck one wing in,” he murmured, gliding his hand down the arch of her left wing. He lifted her enough to tuck it in beneath her and laid down beside her. “There,” he said, cupping the side of her throat with his hand and turned her face toward him. “Now I can be close without pinning you down.”

She brought her hands to his face and stroked his jaw. “You'd never pin me on purpose.”

“No,” he smiled and nuzzled their noses together. “I wouldn't.”

Soft hands. Gentle touches. The quietness of the moment broken only by the crackle of the fireplace and the sweet rumble of his purr. His lips were lovely, his body warm. His hands left behind paths of tingles with every sweep and caress, and when he cupped her breast, she whimpered and arched, moaning into his mouth.

He chuckled, and she felt his lips spread into a smile. Lips he then took and pressed to her shoulder, small kiss after small kiss, working his mouth over her skin while pulling and tweaking her nipple.

“Steven,” Lizzy whimpered, threading her fingers into his hair.

He rolled closer, mouth sliding down to latch onto her nipple, sending a sharp gasp exploding from her lips. She shifted restlessly when his palm stroked over her belly, and Steve laid his thigh over hers, holding her down.

Thick and hot, she could feel the length of him against her hip. The spear of flesh she worried wouldn't fit.

He nipped her skin, continuing to work his mouth over her breast, adding teeth to his clever tongue and sucking lips, and rose up to straddle her thigh.

Steve brace on his hands to either side of her head and peered down at her. “You are a sight to behold, omega.”

Lizzy stroked her hands over his shoulders and chest. “So are you, alpha.”

He ducked down and kissed her, ravaged her mouth, sank in and wallowed. Hands delved into her hair or skimmed her body. He touched her with reverence. With only his fingertips. As if memorizing every curve and dip of her flesh. Then his mouth was skimming along her jaw to bury beneath her ear and suck.

She moaned and dug her nails into his back setting his wings flaring up high and wide. A small tilt of her chin made him growl and work down her body, tongue curling and sweeping as he licked along her collarbone. He cupped her breast in his big hand and sucked it into his mouth.

Such pleasure sped through Lizzy’s veins she panted to hold back the scream building in her throat. Kiss after tender kiss left behind heat and wetness on her skin. The wetness that dried swiftly on her over warm flesh.

Her mind grew hazy with the pleasure he offered as he made his way down her body to run his nose through the apex of her curls. “Elizabeth,” he purred, setting her shaking with need.

“Please!” she begged, her hands going to his hair.

Steve chuckled and pressed her knees open wide. “You fairly drip for me, omega, and I find I'm dying of thirst.” He purred his appreciation, eyes dark with lust, and laid on his belly.

The first sweep of his tongue saw Lizzy arching with the ecstasy. Hot and wet and a little rough, his tongue pulled at her lips, slicked through her folds, and dove deep between her walls.

“Ambrosia,” he sighed before pressing his entire mouth to her.

Lizzy cried out. Exquisite was the torment he played upon her body. Flicks and licks and strong sucks had stars exploding through her — lighting fires and fanning the flames already there. Her body burned and the erotic noises, the growls and moans he made as he feasted on her, only stirred her onward.

His hands were so tight on her thighs, Lizzy wondered if she'd be able to walk come morning. But the thought was fleeting when he took the small bundle of nerves at the top of her untried opening between his lips and sucked hard.

Her scream was loud and long as she clutched at Steve and held his head against her. The wing tucked beneath her lifted her from the bed, and she curled forward when he slipped his fingers inside her, stroking clenching walls. “Gods, Steven!”

He rumbled a chuckle and ran his tongue around his fingers. “Sweet. So sweet.”

The look in his eyes when he peered up at her sent a shiver of excitement down Lizzy’s spine. They called him The Golden Devil on the battlefield. Now she knew why. She felt hunted. Stalked. Pursued by nothing more than the look in his eyes, battle red and full of fire.

A smile curled his lips, then his tongue slicked up her folds, and his fingers stroked and retreated, sending intense pleasure spiralling through her.

She bent, held up by her wings, head thrown back in bliss. Lizzy gasped for breath, deprived of air but too full of sensation to much care. Light and shadows flickered behind her closed eyelids, seeming to surge and pulse in time with the pleasure flowing through her, and she clenched her hands in his hair holding him close as the tight coil in her belly began to grow again.

He kept coaxing and stroking, sliding his fingers through her fluttering walls, enticing her toward another round of earth-shattering ecstasy. Everything burned and throbbed, her muscles ached, straining, reaching. A scream locked in her throat as blinding bright pleasure flooded every inch of her body and closed hard around his fingers.

Lizzy collapsed into the soft bedding when her wings gave out and laid there panting, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. That had been more, so much more than he'd ever shown her before and she pressed her fist to her lips to keep from sobbing.

“Elizabeth?” Confusion laced his voice.

“I'm… alright,” she sniffled, not looking at him, overwhelmed by it all.  

Large hands caressed her thighs. They slipped up to hold her waist as warm, soft lips kissed the bones of her hips. Her belly. Her ribs. Her chest.

Finally, he was back where she could see him from the corner of her eye, hovering above her, wings of gold like a blanket spread out, so they touched hers feather for feather. “Shh, my precious queen. My sweet omega. Everything is fine.”

Light brushes of his lips worked gently over her cheek, his lips catching her trickling tears. The heat of him was all she could feel until the softest brush of _Will_ settled over her. It seemed to match the weight of his lips, gradually becoming heavier as he lowered his chest to hers, stretching over her, bringing all new pleasure with each returning touch.

Lizzy closed her knees against his hips, moaning at the feel of hot flesh placed between her thighs, but he made no move to take her, only pressed slow kisses to her cheek and jaw and the corner of her mouth.

“Your beautiful in your abandon, my love. A queen lost to pure pleasure. You're doing so well. Let me show you more. Let me make you mine.”

His fingers skimmed through her feathers and made Lizzy moan. Her chin lifted, her throat his for the taking.  

“Is that a yes, Elizabeth?” he asked, his nose rubbing on the spot beneath her ear where he would leave his mark.

It was hard to turn her head to see him with how languid she felt, how soft and relaxed her body had become, but she smiled and inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. Potent with arousal, with lust and love, it filled her lungs and made her belly clench in anticipation. She smiled at the tender, gentle way he kissed her; at how big and heavy he was but how carefully he held himself above her. She smiled because he was good and honest, and so loving. She smiled because he was everything she wanted, and he would be hers. Forever.

“That’s a yes, Steven,” she whispered and found the strength to gently touch his cheek.

He captured her lips in a fierce kiss, one that stole what little breath had her returned to her lungs. He gave and took in equal measure, never still, always moving. Teeth and tongue and lips in concert to bring her nothing but pleasure. His hand landed on her breast, fingers stroking her soft flesh before they plucked her hard peak. Then they were skimming downward, over her ribs and belly, down until he could take himself in hand.

His knuckles brushed her tender flesh and made Elizabeth flinch, nerves tightening her muscles.

“It’s fine, my dove. Relax.” He shifted to rest on his elbow and slipped his hand behind her head where he gripped and squeezed her neck and brought their noses together. “You’re mine. We are made for each other. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

A brush of _Will_ and deep rumble of contentment preceded the rub of hot flesh through her slick folds. Pressure, weight, and the feeling of something foreign pressing at her entrance had her tensing in uncertainty.

Steve lifted his head from her throat and looked down at her, likely seeing her worry and slight fear. But instead of offering comfort a second time, his lips curled back, and he snarled, low and deadly.

Lizzy gasped and submitted, her entire body going lax. Before she could draw a full breath, the feeling of invasion and pressure became one of fullness and intense stretch when he slowly joined them as one.

“Oh…” she said, her voice small. “Oh, wow…” it was a glorious feeling.

He chuckled and rubbed their noses together. “You feel so good, omega. Like a warm, wet glove. So tight. So perfect.”

“Now what?” she asked, caught by the bright blue and swirling red of his eyes.

“Now... this.” A smile curled his lips as ever so slowly he drew his hips back and the spear of pulsing flesh dragged over her sensitive sheath.

A purr of pleasure escaped her chest as Lizzy arched her head back, stretching her throat out long for his nipping teeth. She hadn't known her body could feel these things, these unbelievable sensations. She hadn't any idea _this_ was what waited when she found her mate and took him to her nest. She hadn't known. Now she never wanted it to end.

“Oh, Gods, Steven!” she cried. Every muscle twitched and throbbed, desperate to anchor him to her. She threw her arms around his neck and found his strong wings, the feathers as soft as silk. Her legs wrapped his waist and heels dug into his buttocks.

“There's my queen,” he chuckled, grabbing a handful of her bottom to shift her position. His other hand remained locked at the back of her neck, thumb sweeping over her pulse and fingers squeezing the tense cords.

Lizzy ran her hands along the arch of his gorgeous wings and then clamped down, holding him tight to her when he returned on a slow plunge. It was exquisite torture as he forced her tight channel to stretch as he returned to be fully seated.

“I heard,” she panted, “Landed females have a barrier their mates must breach.”

“I've heard that as well. Thank the Gods it is not so for us, Elizabeth. I would detest hurting you to claim you,” he breathed against her lips.

“No pain, alpha,” she whispered against his. “Only pleasure.”

“Only pleasure,” he confirmed, beginning his retreat again.

Her eyes rolled back, and lashes fluttered at the incredible feeling. Then he was returning at a much faster rate. His speed increased. His breathing grew shallow, and Lizzy saw stars.

She released his wings but only to walk her hands over glistening flesh. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bunched and moved with every strong thrust. Steel and velvet. Strength and tenderness. It all matched perfectly the alpha who laboured above her.

Boulders resounded in his chest, a never-ending call to her, his mate. An enticement. A longing. One she answered unknowingly when the same sweet, silky warble from earlier erupted from her throat.  

His wings swept up, then down as he raised them both, taking her with him in a display of strength that left her shaken and set her walls clenching around his hard shaft. She gasped a quiet word no lady of taste should know when she landed over his spread thighs, and his cock speared straight to the door of her womb.

“Elizabeth, language,” he teased, holding her tight with an arm beneath her hips.

She tightened hers around his neck and brushed their lips together. “With the utmost respect, alpha… stop talking.” Lizzy sank her teeth into his lower lip. His brow arched over one very red eye, and she could taste the copper tang of his blood on her tongue, but she only licked at his mouth and closed her arms around his neck.

“You are quite the queen,” he purred.

She tsked softly. “What did I say about talking?”

Both hands fell to her bottom, gripped tight handfuls, and raised her up in short, sharp jerks before letting her fall. An equally sharp gasp of air broke from her lips each time she felt the slap of flesh coming together. Her breasts burned, her core ached and throbbed, pulsing with unimaginable pleasure.

Lizzy moaned and buried her face against his shoulder, biting down to hold on to something when she felt like she was flying. It was as if the sky had opened below her and she was free falling. Diving. Streaking toward the ground without a free wing to stabilize her descent. Her wings flared out anyway, spread wide, reaching well past the edges of the bed. Then they slowly dropped, falling to lay like a carpet of white behind her.

Steven's snapped back, high and wide, arched like the bird of prey they resembled. He showed his incredible strength again when he released her with one hand, and the other shifted to keep the smooth rise and fall going. The free one lifted, his fingers sinking into her hair to pull her head back and to the side.

His nose skimmed the length of her throat, then his tongue before a feral growl rumbled from him. “Mine.”

“Yours,” she agreed, her heart pounding in excitement.

“Mine,” he whispered.

The coil in her belly had been swamped in fire, making her shake with the need to let go. So much pressure was building, Lizzy was sure when it finally gave way she would shatter into a thousand pieces.

Teeth scraped once. Twice. Nipped and pulled at the gland where he would bite. Sweat slicked his shoulders. It made her difficult to find purchase, and she settled for a wing and a handful of hair.

“Please, alpha,” she begged. Lizzy could feel the slick coating her thighs and his lap and knew she wouldn't last much longer. “Please.”

“Mine,” he purred and drove her down on his cock before sinking his teeth into her throat.

A roar tore from her, making her voice raw. Loud and violent, she bellowed like a dragon when the coil snapped, and the inferno began a firestorm marching through her body. She swore she went blind for a moment, unable to fathom such pleasure. The beauty of it wasn't lost to her as she clung to the man who was now her mate and shook when he licked his bite.

“Shh,” Steve whispered, holding her close and brushing back her hair. “We're only halfway done, my love.”

He was hard still, pulsing inside her, a high feverish flush on his cheeks. Lizzy smiled coyly, having never seen him so undone.

She let her feet fall to the bed and gripped him tightly with her knees. Then it was she rising and falling down the hard shaft with only slight assistance from him. She purred a sound of pure pleasure as he continued to lick and suck on her throat and rolled her hips as she pulled on the handful of his hair and drew his head back.

He looked like she felt moments ago. Eyes blind and head thrown back in bliss. Lizzy could feel the same overwhelming pleasure growing again and revealed in it.

She wanted more. Harder. Faster. She wanted bruises and nail scores on his fair skin. She wanted to sink her teeth in and never let go. “Steven,” Lizzy crooned and nuzzled against his throat. “Alpha,” she sighed and bit into his flesh.

He smelled of pine and musky male and tasted like nothing she'd ever set to her tongue when the gland beneath her fangs burst, sealing them together with the mating chemicals that bond them one to the other.

Steve's roar was that of a giant beast, an alpha dragon that should have shattered glass. It rattled the windows in the same moment the heat of his seed flooded her belly and sent her tumbling headlong after him.

Lizzy felt sated, her body limp and lax, but she couldn't bring herself to stop licking his skin, lapping the red pattern her teeth had left there. It would take a few days for the red to fade, then a bruise would form, and finally, the scar would silver.

He held her to him, tight but gentle, and mimicked her actions. Every stroke of his tongue felt so lovely, she finally gave up her spot at his throat to stretch her neck out for him. She found such comfort in the simple action.

“Mine,” he purred.

“Yours,” she smiled.

He kissed her softly, sweetly, and pulled the blankets down before laying her back amongst the pillows. Lizzy shifted to tuck her wings in as he finally left her body. She chirped a little, disappointed noise having loved the joined feeling of them together.

“It's alright, my sweet dove,” he whispered, cupping her cheek. “I go only to find a cloth and warm water; then I'll return.”

She nodded, feeling still the pulse and flutter of her womb, and the warm wet trickle of his seed on her thighs. He left her to walk across the room in all his glory and collect the pitcher left before the fire. By the Gods, he was a gorgeous man, all rippling muscle and sleek golden feathers.

Lizzy felt fresh desire pool in her belly but was too tired to do more than set her hand upon her abdomen when he turned toward her and arched an amused brow.

“It's difficult to know if that is new desire I smell or what is left over from before,” Steve chuckled.

“New,” she admitted. “You are a very handsome alpha. It makes me tingle just looking at you.”

“Does it?” His flaccid cock twitched and stirred against his thigh, slowly growing again as he returned to her side. “I take it you enjoyed yourself?” he teased from the foot of the bed.

Lizzy didn't know where the confidence came from, but she was suddenly spreading her knees apart and sliding her finger through the thick wetness on her folds. “The evidence is plain to see, Steven,” she purred and held up her glistening fingers.

The red that had cleared from his eyes returned in a rush when he leapt to land on his knees between hers and captured her wrist. A gasp of excitement escaped Lizzy's lips; then a moan passed them when he brought her fingers to his mouth and swept his tongue over them.

“Mm,” he purred releasing her so he could run his digits through her slick folds himself. Then he brought them to her mouth and pressed them between her lips.

She opened her mouth and took them in, moaning at the flavour of their love combined, and sucked vigorously to clean his fingers of the sample.

“You keep this up, ‘mega, and I will have you again. Right now. I will show you a much more vigorous loving than previously.”

Lizzy reached down and wrapped her fingers around his slightly sticky cock. “Do you hear me protesting, alpha?”

The cloth he'd brought with him went off the side of their nest and landed with a plop.

***

Natasha paused to look up at the glowing windows of what she knew where Steve's quarters with a smile. The roar had shattered the silence of the evening and sent them all scurrying to find their beds.

Or in the case of those who could, flee the keep where their alpha had finally claimed his mate.

She knew the power of a mating night, even though she was neither alpha nor omega. Still, she remembered her own fondly, and it got her blood up for the man walking ahead whose brown wings were speckled in rows of black and white spots. Natasha remembered well the taste of him when she'd bitten down and bound them together. There was nothing that compared to the first time she'd sank her fangs into Barton's neck.

His wings twitched, and he glanced back over his shoulder at her as he escorted Constance across the bailey. Natasha smiled when the smallest hint of red coloured his eyes. It added a sensual sway to her hips.

Yes, tonight as she had so many nights before now, she was going to bite that man again.


	14. Chapter 14

Steve woke when Lizzy shifted to rise from their nest. He was going to ask where she was going but was caught, mesmerized by the shaft of early morning light when it fell on her wings. She poured a glass of water and stood drinking it, framed in white feathers. He couldn’t get past how beautiful she was. When she finished, she stretched her arms up and her wings out, and hummed in pleasure.

He hadn’t thought it possible to want her again after the previous night where he’d touched and tasted every inch of her skin and worn himself out in her body until they’d fallen into a tangle of limbs and exhaustion. He knew every sweet moan, soft cry, and stunning dragoness growl. He knew what made her gasp, or sigh, or melt. He knew everything about her and yet knew so little, but their future together excited him.

Steve shifted to his back, unbelievably comfortable in her pillowy nest, and shifted the sheet down to his waist where his cock was already half mast. “Come back to bed, Elizabeth. The day has  barely begun.”

She smiled over her shoulder at him. “I was planning to, but my throat is quite parched after last night’s activities.” Lizzy turned, and Steve purred a pleased rumble, his gaze drifting over the marks of possession he’d left on her fair skin. “And I’ve never slept in a nest completely of my own making before. I want to enjoy it for a few more hours.” She approached the side of the bed and knelt upon the foot where she crawled on her hands and knees up his legs.

Steve smirked a little grin. “What are you doing, darling?”

“Coming back to bed.” She collected the sheet and pulled it slowly down, revealing his now fully hard length. “But I’m finding sleep is the last thing on my mind.”

She bent over him, her hair dragging in tickling caresses up his skin. Warm breath hit his shaft right before wet lips followed, and he moaned as he sank his fingers into her hair. Her tongue swept the length of him, licking and laving before her lips closed around him and he was sinking to the back of her throat.

He had to focus on the arch of her pretty wings to keep from coming down the back of her throat with the first hard suck of her lips. Her hands skimmed over his hips, stroking his skin, pressing into his muscles.

“Elizabeth,” he purred.

She sucked hard and released him, but only to take her wicked, dancing tongue over his heaving abdominals. Warm fingers curled around his shaft and tugged in perfect rhythm as she worked her mouth up his body, pressing kisses to his chest before her fangs dragged lines of red over his heart.

“Omega,” he growled.

She chuckled darkly as she crawled into his lap, her wings arching high and wide behind her. “Patience, alpha,” she whispered, nipping his bottom lip hard as she lined him up with her hot, moist opening.

They both moaned, lips touching, mouths grazing together and eyes locked when she lowered over him, enveloping him in squeezing heat. Lizzy’s hands smoothed over him. Up his chest to close at the back of his neck, but Steve sent his down to cup her bottom and drag her even closer. “I have little left when it comes to you.”

She pouted prettily. “Oh? Even when I do this?” Her hips rolled, and red washed through his vision.

“Especially when you do that,” he growled and snapped his teeth near her throat.

Lizzy lifted her chin invitingly. “And now?” she purred, still rising over him, making his heart hammer wildly with her wanton taking.

The red, angry mark on her skin begged for his teeth, but he fought back the desire to bite her again so soon and laced his tongue over it instead, licking and sucking until she was shaking in his arms.

“Steve,” she whimpered.

“Patience, ‘mega,” he chuckled. She growled at him, but it only made him laugh all the more. Then, before she could guess what he was about, he lifted her off him, straight up as he shifted to his knees.

“Steven!” Lizzy gasped, sending notes of _confused, startled, excited_ singing through the air.

“Trust me, Elizabeth.” He didn't give her a chance to deny him, only turned her around, ducking wildly swinging wings, then dragged her back to her knees and down until she was spread out on her belly before him.

“Steven?”

Worry had replaced excitement, but he only crawled over her, urging her to spread her wings while he nudged her knees apart with his. “I did say I wanted to take you as a dragon takes his mate,” he hummed, skimming his nose up her spine before nipping sharp teeth into her soft shoulder.

She went lax beneath him, her body accepting. He couldn't help but rumble his approval.

Grabbing one of their many pillows, he lifted her hips and tucked it beneath her before slipping back inside her welcoming heat. She moaned, and it tightened the grip he had on her hips. Already she would wear a dozen marks or more all over her body, but he found the fingertip bruises he'd left on her hips were his favourite.

He swept his thumbs over the curves of her buttocks, then skimmed them up her ribs. When her wings halted his upward progress, he traced them inward to the base of her beautiful wings and gently stroked the fluff tufting there.

“The gods have blessed me to gift me such an incredible omega,” he sighed, laying a kiss to her spine.

“Steven,” she whined, her walls clenching on his cock.

“Eager, my love?”

She whimpered when he shifted to push her hair out of the way. "Always."

He chuckled again as his chest settled to her back. Then he found her hands and weaved their fingers together, giving her something to grasp even as he held her down. When he nuzzled her ear, he murmured, “Is this alright, Elizabeth?”

“So nice. Oh, alpha!”

He smiled against her and spread his wings, allowing them to connect, feather by feather, until Lizzy was shaking, shuddering mess, drowning him in pheromones.

“I haven't the neck or the tail for it, love, but I will take you in their fashion as best I can.” Without a further word, he sank his teeth into her nape to keep her still and began to slowly move his hips.

She sobbed and squeezed his fingers, her body soft and pliant beneath him. Her cries were loud, almost pained, but she made no sound of protest, only begged for more.

Sweat beaded on his brow and dampened his back, but he could no more slow his pace then he could stop. His warlord alpha nature was firmly in command, and nothing would stop the hard driving of his hips causing the sharp slap of skin together but soaking his lust on her sweet body.

He released his mouthful of flesh but only to praise her. “So perfect, ‘mega. So beautiful.  You're the love of my heart. I cannot wait to see you ripen with our first clutch. To watch as you grow round with our hatchling.” He nipped her new mark and made her shiver. “When next your heat finds you, I will spend hours preparing you, my mouth between your thighs. You'll be so slick and sensitive. Your body will take mine and happily accept my seed, and still, I will drown you in it. Soak your womb until it overflows.”

Red had erased the white of her eyes when her lashes lifted. “Alpha,” she moaned.

“That's right, omega. My sweet, beautiful dragoness. How I adore you. Come for me, beloved.”

Steve watched as her release overtook her, widening her eyes and flushing through her cheeks. Her lips parted, and her panting stalled as a high pitched cry seemed to force its way from her throat when her sheath closed around him, dragging him down I to the depths of mind-blowing pleasure.

It shot along his spine, the most perfect, powerful, pleasant sensation. Pleasure streaking through him to center in his groin and burst outwards, doing precisely as he said when he soaked her in his seed.

He didn't roar his pleasure as he had the first time for she stole his breath, allowing him only enough air to growl into her throat, his hips slowing to a stop when he buried himself deep in her body.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, his body limp.

She chuckled. “Now who needs to watch his language? I am but an innocent omega.”

“Innocent?” he snickered. “I hardly believe it.”

“I'm not the one speaking filthy promises.”

He rumbled a happy purr. “You liked it, I could tell.”

“Perhaps I did. But if you squish the breath from me, alpha, how will you ever know for sure?”

He chuckled and shifted off his mate, then stroked his hands over her wings to draw them in before gathering her into his arms and turning them around to tuck back into bed. “Sleep for another few hours, love. I've asked Dugan to lay out breakfast in your suite later.”

“Mm,” she hummed, rolling over to tuck into his chest, already purring herself to sleep.

Steve chuckled and tugged the blankets up before covering them both in a wing that kept the morning light creeping across the floor from disturbing them a little while longer.

***

When he woke a second time, it was too gentle - but persistent - knocking. Elizabeth remained deeply asleep curled up against him, not allowing Steve the opportunity to rise to answer; instead, he called out, “It had best be life or death, Ross.”

The door opened enough for the beta to speak. “Forgive me, my lord. I'm afraid… that is to say... oh, dear.”

“Ross,” Steve growled.

“I'm afraid returning Miss Martin's letter was a day too late.”

“I don't understand.”

The door opened a little further. “She's here, sir.”

Anger speared through his heart. “You've got to be joking, man!”

“I'm sorry, Lord Denton.”

Steve pressed a hand to his eyes. Ross only ever called him Lord Denton in private when the beta was beside himself with anxiety and didn't know what to do. “Find Dugan and send him to me. Elizabeth's maids as well in case she decides to join me. Put Miss Martin in the green room, and send to Natasha. I may need her cooler head. Say nothing to… _that woman_ about my mating. I will see to it.”

“Of course, my lord! Right away!”

The door shut and Steve glared at the ceiling before looking down at the woman sleeping soundly on his chest. The idea of waking her for _this_ angered him greatly.

He rolled slowly, sending her to her back where he kissed her as he extracted his arm from beneath her wings. She purred a sweet sound that stirred his cock. “Elizabeth?” he whispered.

“Sleeping,” she sighed.

It brought a smile to his face and vanished his anger. “There is an unwelcome visitor I must see to, my dove. You can keep sleeping if you like.”

She blinked once, her eyes tired. “Visitor? Today?”

“An unwelcome one, yes. I will send them away.”

“Will you come back?” she asked, her nails scratching his chest.

“Of course, darling. Today I am all yours,” he smiled.

“I would hope so,” she sighed, her eyes closing. “I have plans.”

“Naked plans?” he chuckled.

“Play your cards right, Colonel, and that can be arranged.” She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow.

Steve smiled adoringly at her before placing a kiss on her shoulder and climbing out of their nest. After making sure she was adequately covered, he walked into his dressing room where he pulled on clean undergarments moments before Dugan arrived.

“Don't ogle my lady, Dugan,” Steve grumbled when he appeared, looking as red in the face as his hair.

“I did no such thing, my lord. However, I will be setting up that privacy screen between the door and your lady's nest,” the man grumbled.

“That will be fine, Dugan. Now, come. I must dress quickly as I plan to return to my mate before she wakes enough to realize I'm gone.” Steve was already reaching for trousers when Dugan batted his hand away.

“You can't be dealing with that fanny flapping woman in your dinner clothes. Leave off!”

“Dugan!” Steve snickered even as he scolded.

“Oi, you've heard worse. One would think I didn't run with you when you were Captain,” the redhead grumbled.

“One would think I pulled you fresh from betwixt a willing woman's thighs with your attitude.”

“Mayhaps you did, my lord, but as I am not sporting the red scar of a fresh mating bite, you'll never be the wiser.” A smirk curled Dugan's lips. “Then there are the nail marks and intriguingly placed hickeys.”

“Dugan,” Steve growled.

“I know, I know. I'll keep my mouth shut about your well-taloned woman.”

Steve rolled his eyes but accepted assistance into his shirt. “You'd best.”

“Though after the roar that raised the roof last eve…”

“Dugan. I will put you out without references.”

“No, you won't,” the man grinned. “But I'm finished with my teasing. I'm happy for you, Colonel.”

Having been with Steve since the beginning, it wasn't unheard of for Dugan to goad him mercilessly in private. In public, the man was a beacon of propriety, the best valet a man could have, but Dugan would always be Steve's friend and comrade first.

“Thank you, my friend,” he murmured as Dugan fussed with his collar.

“I finally get to try the rolled cravat tie because of your lady. It's about damn time.”

Steve chuckled as Dugan chose pants, waistcoat, and jacket, then tied the damn cravat in some fancy finery that did nothing but made Steve feel as if he were being hung, but when the man finished and held up the mirror, Steve arched an amused and appreciative brow.

“Is this all the rage?” he asked, admiring how the collar was turned down.

“It has become de rigueur for mated males who wish to show off their mark.”

“Yet Barton and Lang can't be bothered?”

“Barton and Lang tie their own cravat. And neither of them are in the midst of making a statement, clear and without room for misunderstanding to an overzealous omega,” Dugan bit out.

Steve chuckled softly as he shrugged into his jacket and held still for Dugan to work around his wings. “Have you been gossiping with Ross, Dugan?”

“Gossip is for old women.”

“Remind me to get you a nice knitted shawl for your next hatching day,” Steve teased.

“You certainly have your wits about you for a man I'm sure got very little sleep.”

“Battlefield sharp, my friend.” Steve allowed the man a cursory examination of his wings to straighten any wayward feathers before striding for the door.

“Colonel?” Dugan held up a pair of boots. “Or would you prefer to head into the fray barefoot?”

Steve took the footwear and shoved his feet into them. “I'd prefer not to be leaving my lovely omega's nest to deal with the annoying bit of fluff that woman has become, but it's clear Miss Martin needs to be told to her face she is not wanted.”

***

He went out the door with Dugan on his heels, unaware of the shock that had Lizzy sitting bolt upright.

“Miss Martin? Here?” The thought of it set her heart racing, and Lizzy leapt from their bed to hurry into the other room. She would not allow him to face the woman alone.

She was in a frenzy of underclothes when her two maids arrived.

“Lady Heartright?”

“Mary! Choose a day dress. Jane, quickly with my hair. We must hurry so I can join my mate.”

The girls evidently knew what had caused her to be in such a state and moved quickly to assist. Jane's deft hands managed to rework the curls leftover from the previous evening, adding braids and a silky white ribbon by the time Mary appeared with a day dress in royal blue. Long-sleeved, it would be nice as the day was looking quite grey and gloomy out her window.

“Perfect, Mary. Thank you.” She stood to allow the women to tie her stays and assist her into the gown.

“Beggin’ your pardon, milady. I hope I'm not over steppin’, but you are a far sight prettier than the lady who's come callin’,” Jane murmured, adding delicate sapphire drop earrings to Lizzy's lobes.

“I appreciate the encouragement, Jane,” Lizzy whispered, Mary having gone for slippers.

A quick pluck of her cheeks, an added shawl, and Lizzy headed for the door only to stop. “I have no idea where I'm going.”

“The green parlour, milady.” Mary hurried closer. “I can show you.”

She nodded agreement, and they hurried down the hall, but instead of taking the well worn wooden stairs, Mary led them down to the stone ones nearest the grand entrance. From there, it was easy to find her way as the loud, garish, overly cheerful voice of this Miss Martin could be heard even from the stairwell.

Lizzy took a deep breath and descended, then swept slowly into the green parlour where Steven stood looking utterly exasperated. “My love? Have we guests?” Lizzy asked quietly from her place framed within the doorway.

His eyes snapped to hers, then some of the tension in his body relaxed. “Darling, I thought you slept on?”

“After you left our nest? Of course not. I was awake an instant after you had gone.” She made her way toward him, careful of her steps. She'd never been a clumsy omega and didn't plan on starting now when _that woman_ was in the room with her.

Steven held out his hand for her and drew her to his side. “My darling, this is Miss Martin.”

Lizzy finally turned her attention to the people within the room. The woman was ashen beneath her freckles, the rust of her hair making her appear even more sallow. Dressed well in appropriate fashion and on trend, Miss Martin appeared well turned out if not for the lack of social grace arriving at an Earl's home without invitation announced.

The woman with her wore the travelling garb of a governess, all black and severe. She was Landed and appeared ready to bolt at any moment. It was clear from her discomfort Miss Martin had bullied her into this excursion.

Lizzy returned her attention to Miss Martin. She had pretty eyes. Lavender like the Heather on the Scottish moors.

A shift of movement showed Natasha standing idly in the corner, while Ross hovered at the far door.

“Miss Martin, my mate and fiancee, Lady Elizabeth Rogers,” Steven finished, prompting Lizzy to lower into a slight curtsey even though she was startled by her sudden name change.

“A pleasure, I'm sure.” It was a sentiment the other omega didn't return.

“But… but, Steven…” the woman stuttered.

“It is Lord Denton, Miss Martin. We have never been on a first name basis,” he snapped.

The harshness cut through the woman's shock like a knife. “What is the meaning of this? We had an arrangement! Father will be arriving later to discuss our engagement!”

Steven stiffened, and his wings began to unfurl. “We had no such agreement. I danced with you once out of good conscience, and this is how you act!” he snarled. She cowered back from the lash of his angry _Will_.

Lizzy laid her hand on Steven's chest. “Alpha, please. Allow me to speak with Miss Martin.” He ground his teeth together but gave a sharp nod as he spun away to pace toward the window. “Ross? Tea?”

“Of course, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Do have a seat, Miss Martin.” Lizzy glided closer and perched on the edge of the settee, ruffling her wings so they settled elegantly off to the side. “Did you have a very long journey?”

The woman appeared so taken aback she sat without thought. “From… from Leeds.”

“All that way? Well, you’ve had fine weather for your journey until today.” Lizzy made small talk for a few more minutes while she waited for Ross to return, gradually watching the woman relax. When the butler appeared with tray in hand, he set it down on the table at Lizzy’s knee, but when he made to pour, she waved him gently away. “Thank you, Ross.”

“Lady Elizabeth.” He bowed and moved away.

Lizzy poured and motioned to tray. “How do you take it?”

“Two sugar.”

She added the sugar and handed the cup off before fixing her own. Lizzy took a fortifying sip and set the cup on her knee. “Now, Miss Martin, you must see how ridiculous this pursuit of yours is.”

“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered.

“You’re making yourself out to be quite the fool, chasing an alpha who not only never showed interest in you but who is now mated and soon to be married.” She purposely touched her ring. “You won’t win him, nor change what fate has put in motion. It is better to cut your losses and leave, returning home with your dignity intact and reputation unmarred.”

“How would coming to see _my_ alpha mar my reputation?” she snapped.

Lizzy placed her tea on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “You are an unmated omega arriving at the home of what was previously assumed an unmated alpha who has never shown you more than a momentary passing interest. Had I not been here, had the Colonel not already been mated to me, you could have easily been labelled a loose woman when he sent you on your way, your reputation in tatters. But if you were to leave now, of your own accord, with good wishes on your tongue, no one would fault you for wanting to spread your congratulations.”

She paled again, setting her freckles into sharp contrast. “Are you… threatening me?”

“Do I need to?” Lizzy asked quietly. Everyone in the room froze. Alpha’s were known to be territorial, but so were Queens. And when someone threatened their weyr, they could be downright deadly.

“I… I… I came with a chaperone!” the woman sputtered.

“You cowed your Landed governess into bringing you. What good is a Landed against the _Will_ of a Warlord Alpha?” Lizzy turned her attention to the Landed woman hovering behind her mistress. “Tell me the truth. Is Miss Martin’s father even aware of where you’ve gone?”

“No, milady.”

“Victoria!” Miss Martin snapped.

Lizzy narrowed her eyes at the other omega. “Was your intention to compromise yourself to force my alpha into a mating, not of his choice?” The red flush on her face spoke for her. “I see.”

“I’ve waited three years for him to come for me!” she burst into tears.

While Lizzy felt sympathy for the woman, she also felt anger. “You’ve fooled yourself into believing something that was not there. That has never been there. A kindness offered by a kind man that you twisted into madness!”

Miss Martin lurched to her feet, the pretty teacup smashing on the floor in her haste. “He made me love him!”

Lizzy rose and snapped her wings open in anger, red coating her vision. “He’s not yours to love!”

“Elizabeth.”

She relaxed slightly beneath the soothing purr of Steven’s voice. “Your journey has been for not, Miss Martin. I assume you came by carriage?” Lizzy glanced toward the butler who nodded. “Then I will kindly ask you to leave my weyr and not return. Ross will show you out.”

A quiet rumble of approval drew her across the room to Steven’s side where he brought her into the cocoon of his wings and nuzzled his nose over her throat.

“But…” the other omega whimpered.

Lizzy grabbed hold of Steve’s lapels when the angry growl ripped from his throat. His eyes had run entirely red. “Alpha.” She reached up and gently brushed her fingers over his mark. “I find I am suddenly tired.”

The red cleared enough for him to focus on her. “Then we should see you returned to our nest. Ross, have Mrs. Danvish prepare a breakfast tray for my mate. Natasha,” he sent a glance at his beta. “See Miss Martin and her chaperon sent on their way.”

Without further acknowledgement to the woman openly crying, Steven ushered Lizzy from the room and straight up the stone stairwell. He said nothing until the door to their room shut behind him and he had her stripped of her clothing, straight down to her shift, and his had joined the pile.

Only once they were both securely tucked back beneath the covers with his face pressed into the curve of her shoulder did he breathe out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

She chuckled softly and ran her fingers over his arm. “No thanks are necessary. I will always protect you from wayward omegas.”

“She started to chatter like a magpie the moment I appeared. I couldn’t get a word in until you arrived. Apparently, her last letter was to inform me she was on her way.”

“I could hear her from the top of the stairs.” Lizzy lightly caressed his wing when it settled over them, blocking out the light. “Will you send to her father?”

“I think at this point I must. It is a three-day drive from Leeds. He is likely beside himself with worry. Or perhaps it would be better if the letter came from my lady?”

“Elizabeth Rogers, is it?” she teased.

“You are my mate, that makes you a Rogers. When you become my wife, you will be Lady Elizabeth Rogers, Countess of Denton.”

She cuddled closer. “I find myself quite thrilled to be yours.”

“Perhaps I should make you mine again,” he chuckled, running his hands over her and making her giggle.

“Or maybe you should just kiss me.”

“Can I not do both?”

“You ordered us breakfast. How fast do you think Mrs. Danvish is?”

He heaved a heavy sigh. “Me and my big mouth.”

Lizzy laughed and drew him over her. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and Ross will forget.”

“Ross never forgets. He’s like a damn elephant.”

“Well,” Lizzy wrapped her arms around his neck. “There’s always _after_ breakfast.”

His blue eyes sparkled. “There is, isn’t there?” He tucked his head and growled happily against her throat, setting Lizzy off in peels of laughter.

“Do you think anyone would miss us if we stayed here all day?”

“I’m fairly certain someone will come knocking.”

“Not if they know what is good for them,” he muttered before gently sucking on her throat.

“Well then. We’ll see how long we can laze about before someone ventures forth to test their bravery against my big, strong alpha,” Lizzy smiled, sliding her hands over his back and stroking them up his wings. Then a quiet knock sounded. “But first, breakfast!” she giggled before calling, “Come in!”

Mrs. Danvish bustled in with the tray, a smile on her lips. “My lord. My lady. It is a fine morning.”

Lizzy glanced toward the curtained windows with a frown, but Steve cupped her chin and turned her face back. “A very fine morning indeed,” he purred and kissed her ever so softly. “A perfect day.”

The housekeeper chuckled. “That it is, my lord. That it is.” She puttered with their meal for a moment longer then headed for the door. “I’ll spread the word you are not to be disturbed. Congratulations, my lord, my lady.”

She shut the door, and Steve grinned down at Lizzy. “Remind me to raise that woman’s wages.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he covered them in his wings, blocking out the gloomy grey light leaking around the curtains, “If she decrees we are to be left alone, they will all leave us alone. Not even Natasha will go against Mrs. Danvish.”

“Then you should definitely increase her wages,” Lizzy giggled and ran her hands over him. “But as I have now been up, dressed, and in a confrontation for the affections of _my_ alpha, I think you should serve me breakfast in bed.”

“I should, should I?” he murmured, brow arched.

She snuck her hands into his undergarments and gently dug her nails into his buttocks. “I would be eternally grateful.”

His eyes darkened with desire. “I do believe Mrs. Danvish brought us a bowl of berries and cream. I will happily share them _if_ I can use you as my plate, darling.”

Excitement sent her heart racing. “Only if I may use you as mine.”

Steve smirked a wicked grin and pushed up on his arms. “Oh, yes, my queen. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by @georgiadean37 through Coffee Updates! Thanks for your support!

* * *

 

Peter hadn’t allowed Constance to use the excuse of the gloomy day to keep them indoors. He insisted she collected a shawl and an umbrella and dragged her out of the smaller keep and back into the main house where they’d spent half the day exploring the side of the manor that was home to his rooms.

The boy, for surely he was still a boy in both spirit and size though he’d boasted he was fifteen summers, had found his voice in her presence and once he had, he'd rarely stopped talking. It was all fun and games and gayety, his laughter and sweet soul keeping her demons at bay until but moments ago when he’d led her down another hall.

They were halfway to wherever Peter was taking her when they passed a room that stopped Constance cold. It was clearly _his_ room when in residence. She could smell him even through the closed door.

“Connie?” Peter murmured, clutching her hand.

Constance inhaled a gasping breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the simple, unassuming door. She reached for the handle unwittingly and pushed the door open. The scent hit her hard, and she closed her eyes. It was wholly unfair how good he smelled. Dark musk and spice, like something sinful sold in the back rooms of a shop in the orient.

She took a step, and then another, walking into the alpha’s room without thought of the consequences of invading the male’s space.

“Lady Constance, you shouldn’t,” Peter whispered, tugging her hand. “This is Lord Barnes room. He wouldn’t want us in here.”

“Wouldn’t want…” she whispered, opening her eyes to take in everything and nothing at all. “Doesn’t want. He doesn’t want…” She turned on her heel and marched out, tears burning her eyes.

Peter scrambled after her, but Constance paid him little mind. It mattered not that it was raining. She could no longer stand being inside. She needed to clear the scent of _him_ from her nose before it made her sick. She needed fresh air.

She burst down the stairs and out into the grand hall, then shot out the front door where she lurched down the stairs into the bailey and stood in the pouring rain. She finally let her tears fall to blend with the storm, hoping no one would notice. Not that there was anyone to see.

As Lizzy had not ventured forth with her new mate, neither had Natasha or Barton. Jarvis had appeared looking flushed and dishevelled, the red of a fresh mating scar half hidden by his collar, but Constance had scolded him soundly and sent him back to Wanda. He deserved happiness, and it was clear he’d found it with the fire dragon.

She would be fine with Peter. The boy was good company. He’d been an excellent distraction up until this point when the aching, ghastly wound seeping in her soul came screaming back to life.

“Lady Constance!” Peter cried, grabbing her by the arms. “Come back inside! You’ll catch your death.”

She looked at him, the russet curls plastering to his forehead. “I can’t, Peter. Don’t you see? I’m broken. He’s broken me. I feel as if I want to die.” Every day it was getting harder to put on a cheery face and continue forward.

“No!” He shook his head in frantic denial. “Don’t say such things!”

“It’s true, Peter!” she sobbed and finally fell into his arms. “I can’t keep fooling myself. Everything hurts, all the time. I just want to lay down and give up.”

“It’s just because you’re here. When you go home-”

“There’s nothing for me at home!” she wailed. “There’s nothing for me but endless loneliness.” Her wings fell lifeless to the ground, soaked and useless and now full of mud. “Just let me go.”

“No! No, I won’t!”

She hadn’t the will to fight him when he swept her off her feet and carried her across the bailey into the smaller keep. “Natasha!” Peter cried as he thrust open the doors. “Natasha!”

“Peter?” the redhead came running, as did Baron and Lang. “Constance!”

“She’s giving up, Natasha!” Peter cried. “Please, help her!”

Constance coughed, and the wet sound sent fear souring the air around her.

“Constance! Constance, no!” Natasha leapt forward and shoved wet hair out of her face. “Think of Lizzy. Think how sad she’d be. Think of your parents!”

“They have each other, and Lizzy has Steve. I have no one.” She closed her eyes and let the blackness take her.

***

Natasha shook her hard, but the omega’s eyes only fluttered. “Don’t you do it, Constance! Barton! Lang! Get someone heating water for my bath. We need to warm her. Hope! The Salthezar Salts. Have you any left?”

“Enough,” she nodded. “I’ll get them.”

“Peter? Can you get her upstairs?” Natasha asked.

“I can.”

She cupped his cheek. “What happened?”

“She found Barnes’ room.”

Anger laced his voice, and there was a hardness to his eyes. Peter had never once been so lax with either alpha’s title. Clearly, Barnes had lost a step in Peter’s eyes. Natasha gently stroked his face. “You did your best. It could have happened at any time. We’ve all been watching her fade.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked, the house running to chaos around them.

Red washed into her vision before fading away. “I will be interrupting our alpha. I’m afraid whatever he’s going to do about Barnes, it must be now.”

Peter clutched the unconscious Constance closer. “He doesn’t deserve her.”

“And yet she is his. It’s past time he got over himself. He no longer has a choice.” She let him go to run out into the rain and between the houses. The door banged against the wall when she thrust it open, causing Ross to jump at her appearance.

“Miss Natasha?”

“Is the Colonel still indisposed?” she asked, already heading for Steve’s wing of the manor.

“Yes, ma’am. Mrs. Danvish made it clear he and Lady Elizabeth are not to be disturbed,” he murmured, mirroring her path.

“I don’t have a choice. Lady Constance has taken ill. I need him.” When the beta stepped in her way, she growled an unholy sound of rage.

“Miss Natasha…” He held up his hands, his wings blocking her way.

“Ross. She’s omega sick.”

Shock rippled over his face. “That’s… that’s not supposed to be possible.”

“I’ve seen it before,” she sighed. “In our travels. She’s not the first, but none of us thought it possible here. But then no alpha has ever denied his omega like this before.”

“Then let me get the Earl for you. He’s already had that earlier ridiculousness. I can be the breaker of bad news today.”

She huffed but nodded. “Elizabeth took down that woman nicely. Let’s hope she can keep her friend alive long enough for Barnes to come to his senses.”

“Let us hope.” Ross gave her a half bow and hurried down the hall.

Natasha watched until he was out of sight. “Ancients watch over us if she can’t. Stark will kill Barnes if Constance dies.” And with her vow to Constance’s father, she was honour bound to help him. “Bucky you ass,” she hissed before turning on her heel and heading for her home.

***

Lizzy stretched beneath the gentle petting of Steven's fingers and purred her pleasure. She'd lost count of how many times they'd made love and was simply basking in the glow of his admiration.

“I'm finding you irresistible, darling,” he chuckled, tangling their legs together as they snuggled in her messy nest.

“Mm,” she curled into him, nuzzling her nose into his chest. He smelled like her now, their bodies saturated in the scent of the other, and it was glorious. “You smell so good, Steven,” she sighed and licked him, loving the taste of him too.

The quiet knock came and made her sigh. “Well, we made it to tea time.” Mrs. Danvish had returned at the lunch hour but had left the tray in Lizzy's room rather than disturb them. Still, she'd known it had to end sometime.

Steve growled, the warning clear in the tone. “Ross! Someone best be dying!”

The door cracked open. “My lord…”

Steve froze beneath her hands, and Lizzy became alarmed. That was a most dire tone.

He thrust himself from her nest, grabbing the dressing gown he'd pulled from his closet hours ago, and donned it quickly. Lizzy scrambled to pull the bedding up, too afraid to move.

“Ross?” Steven pulled the door open more.

The conversation was too quiet for her to hear, but Steven's wings grew tighter and higher as anger became rage and tinged the air with fear.

“Ready my horse and a carriage. Warm bricks. We must keep the chill off as best we can.”

“Yes, my lord.” Ross bowed and moved quickly away as Steve shut the door and stood with his head bowed, hand pressed against it.

“Steven? What is it? You're scaring me.” He turned and lifted his head. The look in his eyes made her heart jump to her throat.

“It's Constance, love. She's… very sick.”

Lizzy scrambled from their nest and lunged for her clothing. “I must go to her!”

He caught her by the arms startling her for she hadn't seen him move. “Elizabeth, there is nothing you can do for her.”

“Of course there is! I can try at least! She's my best friend!” she cried, shoving at him when he wouldn't let her go.

“Elizabeth!” he barked shaking her gently. “This is no ordinary sickness. Natasha told Ross she's omega sick!”

Lizzy frowned. “Omega sick? I… I don't know what that is.”

“You wouldn't. It's never been seen in England.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close.

She could hear the rapid pounding of his heart. “Steven, you're scaring me still. What's happening?”

He drew back enough to take her face in his hands. “Constance is dying.”

“No!” Lizzy screamed, wrenching herself away.

“I'm so sorry, darling.”

She grabbed her gown from the floor as tears glazed her vision. “She was fine last night! I saw her! This can't be happening. You must let me go to her. Help her!”

Steve threw his dressing gown on the bed. “We will go to her, but only one person can help her now.”

“Who? Get them!” Lizzy demanded, openly crying now.

“Barnes. The only one who can help her is Barnes.”

Lizzy froze, staring after Steven as he hurried into his closet, returning moments later with breeches and boots.

“But… he rejected her,” Lizzy whispered.

“Yes.” The word was more angry growl then a word.

She felt headachy and weak, fear making her stomach churn, forcing her to set a hand against it. “Steven, I don't understand.”

He looked up as he dragged his shirt from the floor. “Omega sickness happens when an omega finds and then loses her alpha. We've seen it before. It's rare but more common in France. It happens when an omega… gives up.”

“Gives up?” she whispered.

He tucked his shirt in after rapidly doing up the buttons. “When life no longer holds any hope.”

“Oh!” Lizzy thrust her fist against her mouth and doubled over.

“Elizabeth!” Steve swept her up against him. “Breathe, darling! Breathe!”

She gasped and clutched at him, great sobs falling from her lips. “He did this to her!”

“Yes. Yes, he did.” He gently stroked her hair. He'd taken great care removing the braids and ornamentation from it earlier.

“And now you're telling me the only one who can save her is _him_?”

“Yes. It's the only way.”

She shuddered against him, took a deep breath, and pushed him away. “Then you tell Lord Barnes he'd best get his priorities in order. Or I swear by all the gods, Steven, I will drive a sword through his heart if she dies.”

His hand fisted in her hair and dragged her head back. “The moment you became mine, she became a part of my weyr. She's your nest mate. I care not that you weren't hatched from the same clutch. If she dies, I will kill him myself. He brings shame to our weyr.”

“He brings shame to himself,” Lizzy growled, the world now coated in red.

“I beg forgiveness, my queen for allowing this. I'd hoped with the support of my weyr she would be bolstered, giving Barnes time to come around. Instead, it seems to have expedited her condition.”

She nodded and gave him a gentle push so she could once again collect her gown and drag it on over her shift. “Did you know? When we were still at Iron Hall?”

“Natasha suspected. But we have never seen a case like this. Barnes is not dead. We've only ever seen it in death.”

“Mated pairs usually don't long survive each other.”

“I know that only too well, Elizabeth. But these are not mated pairs. Omega sickness only occurs in the unmated. Usually when they find each other, and then the alpha does not return from war. It can break an omega's hopes when that happens. I've seen it a handful of times. Usually when the match was fated.”

“Like with us?”

“Yes. Like with us.” He turned her to help tie her gown. “I need you to pack what nesting things Constance brought with her. I know you usually travel with something from home.”

“I'll see to it. What are you going to do?”

“We must take her to Winter Hall. We no longer have a choice. Only Barnes can fix this.”

“I'll ride with her.”

“No, darling. What happens next will be quite… distressing. Barton and Natasha will accompany me. I will need you to keep Jarvis here. There can be no interference now. No one for her to turn to but Barnes. What happens next… it's for him to correct.”

She gave a distressed cry and covered her face with her hands. “However will I explain this to Aunt Pepper?”

“We'll discuss it when I return. For now, we must focus on Constance. Prepare yourself, love. What you are about to see will shock you.”

Lizzy turned to face him and found the hard lines of worry running through his face. “I'm ready.”

“You're not, but remember I'm with you.” He took her hand and led her from their cozy haven.

Lizzy cast a glance back at the room, the magic of the day now broken.

Ross met them at the door, a heavy rain appropriate coat for Steven and wide-brimmed hat, and a thick cloak to see Lizzy across the bailey resting across his arms.

“Your horse is ready when you are, my lord. And the carriage is being prepared.”

“Good. Give us ten minutes to see Miss Stark readied, then have the men pull it around. Barton will drive.”

“Of course, my lord Earl.” Ross bowed then pulled the door open.

Lizzy grasped Steve's hand tightly and ran through the rain at his side, her feet soon soaked through. They charged up the stairs to the other home where Hope's mate Scott met them at the door.

“Lang, how bad?” Steven asked the moment they were inside.

Scott cast Lizzy a glance. “Bad. If Peter hadn't been with her…”

A growl rippled from Steve's chest. “Show Elizabeth to Miss Stark's room. We must pack quickly.”

“We've maids collecting her things, but if Lady Elizabeth wouldn't mind packing her nest…” Scott held out his arm.

Lizzy handed her cloak to a waiting maid. “Of course.” She took his arm and glanced up at Steve. “Please, alpha…”

He bent and kissed her tenderly. “I will do all in my power, Elizabeth.”

She nodded and went with Scott, her heart heavy in her chest.

***

Steve watched his mate hurry away, the heavy scent of her distress soaking the air and making him edgy. He threw his coat and hat off and charged up the stairs, knowing Natasha would be doing all she could to stave off the inevitable.

Down a series of halls, following the trail of mud and water, he burst into Natasha and Barton's series of rooms. Clint was pacing, his eyes gone red, already dressed for travel with bolts strapped to forearms and thighs, his bow and quiver and crossbow waiting on a chair.

“I'll kill him,” Clint snarled.

“You won't.” Steve let his _Will_ swell and watched Clint's rage recede.

“How could he do this to her? How dare he!”

“I do not think he intended this to happen. None of us knew it could.”

“Who rejects their omega!” Clint barked.

“Barton,” Natasha snapped from the door that led into her bathing room. “You're not helping. Colonel, I've done what I can. The Salthezar salts have dropped her into a calm but semi-conscious state. For the moment she is stable. You know what must happen.”

“The carriage is a few minutes out. Barton, you're driving. We'll need your eyes in this weather. Natalia?”

“I will ride with her,” Natasha nodded. “And Elizabeth?”

“Packing what Miss Stark brought of her nesting things.” Pounding feet had Steve turning toward the door.

“What is it? What's happened to Miss Constance?” Jarvis demanded even as Wanda placed a soothing hand on his arm.

“She's taken ill. We are handling it,” Steve replied calmly though his _Will_ still pulsed through the room.

“Where is Lady Elizabeth? She should be looking after Miss Constance,” Jarvis insisted, stepping past Wanda.

“Jarvis,” Wanda purred, her _Will_ warm and soft compared to Steve's. “Is not that kind of sickness.”

Steve shot a glance at Wanda. “Did you know?”

“I suspected, but when I saw her this morning, she was still stable. I would have said something if I thought this…”

“Explain this to me. You speak of her being ill, but have no doctor attending her!”

“Jarvis.” Elizabeth's voice was like a balm running a soothing stroke over the volatile tempers. The beta stepped back to allow her into the room. “Steven has explained to me what is wrong with Constance. She needs her alpha. That's the only thing that will help her.”

Jarvis stiffened, then red ran through his eyes. “No!”

“Vis,” Wanda crooned, reaching for him.

“He lost all right to her when he destroyed her heart! I won't allow it!” Jarvis turned toward the far doors, his wings sweeping up.

They were usually held so tightly contained to his back, Steve had never noticed the colour before, but spread out in rage, they were incredible. Grey like steel wreathed in the red of dried blood, each primary appeared tipped like a dripping sword.

“Stand down, Vision!” Wanda snarled, her _Will_ whipping up like a hurricane.

It didn't phase the beta at all, and when Steve stepped in to assist, Jarvis lunged, but for all his ferocity, the beta had not the strength of a Warlord alpha, and Steve took him to the ground.

“Submit!”

“Vision, please!” Wanda begged.

“I must protect what Lord Stark has put me in charge of! Miss Constance is my-”

Steve squeezed the air from Jarvis's throat. “As she is the nest mate of my mate, she is mine to protect as well. There is only one way to stop her swift march toward death, and that is by taking her to her alpha. Barnes must right this wrong. There is no other way. And I swear by the old gods if he fails…” Pain tore through his chest. “I will kill him.”

Jarvis relaxed, going limp beneath Steve's hand. Fresh pain crawled across his face. “Lord Stark will never forgive me.”

“I will deal with Lord Stark,” Steve murmured, rising to his feet. “And you have a place here if you need it.” Jarvis sat up and accepted the hand Steve held out. “Though I would like to know how you charged through the _Will_ of two alphas?” he asked as he pulled Jarvis or from the floor.

“That is my gift. As my eyes can see the changes most others cannot,” he shot a look at Natasha who smirked and arched her brow, “so too am I unaffected by an alpha's _Will_.”

“Rude,” Wanda huffed. “You did not seem so unaffected last night.”

He looked at her and arched a brow. “Just because I'm unaffected does not mean I cannot still feel it.”

“Thoughts for later,” Hope said from behind Natasha. “Colonel. It must be now.”

Lizzy hurried past them all and around Natasha and Hope only to cry out when she saw Constance. The sound hurt Steve in a way he never expected. Then she was back, her hand pressed to her mouth. “Alpha!”

Steve caught her when she stumbled into him and wrapped her in his wings as she cried. “I've got you, my dove.” He purred a warm rumble of sound and looked up when Peter slunk into the room.

“I tried so hard, Colonel.” Wrapped in a blanket with dark circles beneath his eyes, Peter didn't look much better than Lizzy.

“None of this is your fault, Peter. None of it.”

The boy's chin lifted as his face hardened. “No, it isn't. It's his fault. I no longer trust him as an alpha.”

“Peter…” Natasha whispered in shock.

The boy shifted those cold eyes to hers. “If he could do that to Constance, his own omega, what wouldn't he do to me?”

Before any of them could speak, Peter left.

Lizzy pushed back from Steve. “I'll go speak with him. Please, alpha, take care of her.”

“You have my word, Elizabeth.” He caressed her cheek and watched her leave before turning to Natasha.

“She's as prepared as we could make her.”

He nodded and walked past her and Hope into Natasha's bathing room. The woman was spoiled, both by him and her mate as attested to by this room. But the ornate copper tub was her pride and joy and because of its size - big enough to submerge one's wings - it had to remain in place. It had taken Bruce a bit of time to figure out a proper system to drain the monstrosity, but once raised on a slight platform with a pipe placed at the bottom, the tub could drain down and out, off the backside of the keep and into the lake.

They'd also retrofitted a fireplace within the room to heat a large cauldron of water that could then be easily tipped into the tub. Natasha was never stingy about letting the other women use it and often gave it over when one of them was feeling poorly.

As it was in a room big enough to be another parlour, it had chairs and settees and loungers upon which the women often gathered to converse and spend a dreary day in comradery away from the men. However, Constance Stark was no longer in that giant tub but laid out on the nearest lounger. Her skin was ghastly pale but for the dark circles beneath her sunken eyes. She looked like death, and her breath shook with its rattle.

“Peter brought her in from outside. She was filthy and soaked. Between the bath and the salts, she should make it to Winter Hall. After that…” Hope shrugged.

“Only he can make this better,” Steve murmured. He made his way toward the woman dressed in Hope's woollen gown and covered in the blanket from Natasha's bed and lifted her carefully.

She was dead weight, her wings listlessly hanging from her back. It broke a part of him he'd been holding at bay and Steve saw red. Careful of her wings, he wrapped Constance in the blanket, tucking it around the lax appendages to keep them from dragging, then turned with her toward the door.

Hope and Natasha scurried out of the way, heads bowed and necks bared. Barton was next to move away, then Jarvis and Wanda and finally Lang as he made his way from the room.

Constance moaned and gave a wet cough.

Steve purred a quiet sound of comfort. She was an omega under his care, and this had happened. It was unconscionable.

The others followed him down the stairs where he paused at the door long enough to hand Constance to Barton so a servant could return his coat and hat. Natasha beat him out the door, darting down the stairs to seat herself in the carriage and wait for him.

He flicked a wing forward and covered Constance as best he could before heading into the damp air. Once he secured her in Natasha's arms, Steve looked to his beta.

“If she dies…”

“I know, Steve. Ride hard. We'll be minutes behind.”

He nodded and shut the carriage door. Then he was swinging onto the back of his horse; the wet saddle only souring his mood further.

“Barton. Be careful, but not slow,” he said to the man climbing up to accept the carriage reins.

“I'm on it, Colonel,” Clint nodded.

“I'm for the fields,” Steve called as he set his heels to his horse's sides and sent the grey stallion leaping forward.

They charged across the bailey, the horse's hooves clattering over the cobblestones of the covered carriage house. They turned hollow when they hit the wood of the bridge and drummed their way over it. Gravel flew as they transitioned to the road, and Steve gave the stallion his head, urging him onward.

He let his wings stream back, funnelling the wind past them to keep from slowing their pace. Giant golden banners that shed water like great rivers behind them.

Once they cleared the end of the lake, Steve turned the stallion from the road and sent him leaping over a narrow ditch. They'd made this run many times before, and Galahad seemed to sense the urgency.

Soon they cleared the tight treeline and were sailing over fields of tall grass, Winter Hall in sight through the grey haze of rain.

A stone fence bordered the land that Galahad cleared with ease. Barking started moments after their landing, setting the stallion snorting, but Steve only snapped out a snarl that sent the dogs Bucky raised running for their kennels. He had not the time nor the patience to deal with their adoration.

Men at arms came to attention as he cleared the field and pounded up the gravel drive. More ran from the keep, ready to take his horse as he sat Galahad on his hindquarters and launched himself with downswept wings from the saddle.

“Colonel Rogers!” A young beta who went by Pinky gasped as he grabbed for the stallion's reins. “What is it? Is it your lady? An attack at Shield Manor?”

“Where is Barnes?” Steve rumbled, landing hard in the gravel thanks to his wet wings. When he looked up, Pinky gasped and bowed his head. “Inside, alpha.”

“Take him undercover, but stay near. I won't be staying. A carriage follows with Natasha and Barton at speed.” Steve took the stairs three at a time and shoved open the doors to the hall.

Sam appeared at a run. “Steve?”

He took a step back when Steve shot him a glare. “Barnes?”

“Here. Steve what-”

Bucky stopped talking when Steve's head snapped up to find the other alpha coming down the stairs.

“You stupid moron,” Steve snarled gliding forward, his wings spreading, rising, arching outward until they snapped to their full grandeur and sent water spraying everywhere. “Do you know what you've done!”

“Steve…” Bucky held up his hands, approaching slowly. “What's happened?”

“I tried to give you time to come to terms, to do the right thing, to see what a fool you were being, but now it's too late. You no longer have a choice.” He stalked forward and straight up the stairs until he stood on the same riser as Bucky.

“Steve… I don't know what you are talking about.”

Bucky made to lay a hand on him, but Steve batted it away and took his best friend by the throat. “Miss Stark has omega sickness!”

All the colour drained from Bucky's face. “What?”

“She collapsed on Peter today, no more than an hour ago. You're out of time, Barnes. Whether you want her or not, whether you think you can be hers or not is no longer up for consideration. She is dying, and that is on you.” Steve shoved him away and made his way down the stairs when he heard the carriage pull up outside the open doors.

But a familiar, unwanted scent made him stop and snap his attention to the woman arriving in the doorway behind Sam.

“Steven! You came for me! Oh, I knew you would. I knew that woman couldn't be your mate!” Miss Martin gushed, running past Sam to throw herself at Steve.

It was the last straw as what little hold he had left on his nature shattered.

A roar of utter rage shattered the windows framing the door when he turned on the woman and lunged, only for Bucky to slam into him and knock him aside before he could tear the woman's throat out.

“Colonel! Alpha, no!” Bucky barked.

“Why is _she_ here, Barnes?” Steve bellowed, shoving the man off him. “Why when only this morning she tried to come between my mate and I! When Elizabeth ejected her from our weyr?”

“They got caught in the storm. I only offered shelter. I didn't know she was _that_ Martin. I had no idea they'd come from Shield hall.”

Steve looked to the ashen-faced Barnes. It was hard to tell when his world was doused in red, but Bucky looked sick.

Barton came through the door with his bow drawn. “Colonel.”

Moments away from losing the battle he was waging with his nature, Steve fought to his feet, shaking with anger. “Get that woman out of here. Take her to the village and see she and her escort are properly housed. See if the Eerie can send a bird to Leeds to inform Miss Martin's father of her whereabouts and relative safety and my desire that he come forthwith to retrieve his wayward hatchling. I have stayed my hand today. I will not do so again.” The woman was stomping on his territory, and he was not one to long overlook such gross violations of his instincts.

Steve turned on his heel and marched down to the carriage where he pulled the door open.

Natasha archer a brow. “Alpha?”

“Miss Martin is in attendance. See she gets to the inn below the Souther Eerie before I kill her.” He lifted the still unconscious Constance from her embrace, allowing the blanket that had covered her to fall away.

“Steve,” Natasha cautioned.

He paused long enough to look at her before backing from the carriage. “Let him see what his actions have wrought.”

Again he covered Constance with his wing, but this time he left her limp over his arms, her wings dragging as he climbed the stairs to stalk past men at arms and the servants of Winter Hall with what should have been their lady hanging from his arms.

When he walked inside, he pulled his wing away to reveal her to her alpha. The sound Bucky made was that of one dying. “This is your fault. Fix this, brother.”

Devastation coated Bucky's features when he came to take Constance from him. “She hardly knew me. How is this possible?”

“Peter said you broke her. You also broke faith with the boy.”

Bucky's head snapped up. “No…”

“If you can do this to the one who is _your_ omega, what wouldn't you do to him. Those are Peter's words.” Steve laid the woman in his arms. “As Constance is Elizabeth's nest mate, that makes Constance an omega under my protection. Your careless words and deeds have brought us to this point, Lord Barnes. Should Miss Stark perish under your roof…”

“I know, Steve.” He bowed his head. “If that comes to pass, I won't stop you. Winter Hall and all my lands are yours.”

Some of Steve's anger lessened, and he laid his hand on the man's shoulder. “Fix this, Bucky. She's yours. Love her as you should have from the start.” With a final glance at Sam, the beta tilting his head in understanding, Steve walked out to find Pinky waiting with his horse.

“She should have been ours?” the beta whispered, clearly shocked by the state of the omega he'd just left behind.

“She is yours. But Barnes must win back her trust and her heart. There is no other way to save her life.” He swung onto Galahad's back and sent the horse across the fields at a gallop.

There was no more he could do here but trust his weyr to do what must be done. And Elizabeth and Peter would both need him now more than ever.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you anonymously through Coffee Updates. Thanks for your support!!
> 
> Warnings: Language, angst

* * *

 

Bucky stood for a moment longer with the limp form of Constance Stark over his arms and took in what he in his stupidity had done to her.

She was a shell of her former self. Wasting away. Her once vibrant firebrand hair had lost its sheen. The charcoal of her wings had turned dull like a lacklustre storm cloud. Sickly pale and lighter than she should be, he wondered if she'd eaten at all in the week since their introduction.

It had been an accident. He'd never intended to let her know she was his. He'd planned to keep his distance and leave before it was ever discovered, but fate had a way of making a fool of him. And now, he'd done damage he wasn't confident he could repair.

Natasha and Barton stood just inside the keep door. Sam had Miss Martin by the arm, not allowing her to escape, and Bucky focused on her for the moment. “You lied to me. You should have told me what happened at Shield Manor.”

“I-”

Sam tightened his hold, knowing her speaking at this moment was a poor idea.

“Your invitation to stay is revoked. You have thirty minutes to pack and leave. Tardiness on your part will see me finishing what Colonel Rogers started. Get out of my house.” He turned to take the central stairs one careful step at a time. “Wilson. You are in charge. Once Lady Stark's things are unloaded, bring them to her suite.”

“And which suite would that be, my lord?” Sam asked.

“You know which suite, Wilson,” he growled, shifting Constance so her head rested on his shoulder.

His arm still pained him, but at the moment the pain was welcome. He deserved that pain and so much more. He'd failed her — his omega. By trying to do the right thing, he'd failed her even more.

When she whimpered and nuzzled closer, shivering and far too cold for his liking, he wrapped his wings around them to keep in his heat and rumbled a quiet purr.

He'd been so afraid to be hers. Now… now he wished he'd grabbed her with both hands. He wished he could turn back time. He wished he would have fallen to his knees and begged for her hand as his heart had urged him.

This was not at all what he wanted.

With her wings dragging, he was careful of his steps down the second-floor corridor, mindful of her in a way he should have been from the beginning. The door to his suite was slightly ajar, and when he pushed it all the way in, he startled the two maids who were cleaning.

“Out. Inform Mrs. Jones the door to the adjacent room is to be unlocked as soon as possible.” They scurried past him with hasty curtseys and shut the door at his back.

He took Constance to his bed and set her carefully on the edge when she moaned and began to stir. “Constance,” he crooned, kneeling at her feet, holding her close to keep her upright. “Omega.”

She inhaled and blinked open her eyes. “No,” she moaned and pushed weakly at him.

“Constance, listen to me.” Bucky brushed her hair from her face.

“No… you hate… me,” she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks.

He inhaled sharply. Was that what she thought? “No. No, that isn't it at all.”

“But… you don't want me.” She pushed at him, her breath rasping in a way that terrified him.

“Constance, you must listen. You are dying.”

That appeared to give her a momentary pause. Then her hands slowly sank to her lap. “Good.”

Fear streaked through him. “Don't! Don't you say that!” He shook her gently.

“All I ever wanted was _my_ alpha. I wanted a mate to love me as my parents love each other.” Her hand lifted shakily to trace her fingers down his cheek. “But you don't want me. So let me go, and we can both be free.”

Her words were like daggers to his heart. Peter was right. He had broken her. Broken her so deeply he was afraid she would never come back. “By the gods, Constance, I didn't mean it! I was scared!”

“Scared? Big strong alpha.” She snorted her disbelief. “I would tell you where to stuff your fear, but I am too much a lady.”

Weak though her words were, they still had a smile tugging his lips. “Then fight, Constance. Stay with me so you may tell me exactly how big an ass I am.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Why? You have no want of me. Why bother?”

“Because.” He rose up to sit beside her and draw her into his lap where he could again wrap her in the darkness of his wings. “I do want you.”

“Liar,” she sighed her head resting on his chest.

“I'm not. I swear it.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Stay. Fight. Let me prove it.”

“Why?”

“Because the world is a beautiful place you've barely discovered. Don't you want to stay? See Elizabeth and Steve's hatchlings?”

She curled up small. “And have none of my own?”

“Stay,” he cupped her cheek and lifted her chin, “and I will see you have a dozen.”

A spark of life renewed in her dull eyes. “That few?”

“Two dozen,” he rumbled enticingly.

She shivered and the spark faded. “I don't know how.”

“There's a way. A way to make you stronger.”

She shook her head. “I'm not sure…”

He purred for her, the rumble thick and deep and watched a flush pour into her cheeks. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “I'll make it up to you. I swear. I never meant to cause you such pain.”

“You were supposed to love me,” she whimpered. “Why can't you love me?”

“I can! I will, but you must fight to stay with me.”

She shook her head and pushed at him, but it was for naught. “I have no fight left in me.”

“Then let me fight for both of us.” He stroked her cheek, ran his thumb over her lips, and nuzzled his nose along her jaw. “Please, Constance. Please.”

“I'm so tired… how?”

Hope filled him. “Bind me to you. Mark me.”

“Lord Barnes…” She inhaled and then coughed, wet and hollow and so rattling it shot fear up his spine. “You don't want me.”

“I do,” he sighed, resting their foreheads together. “Gods help me I do. I'm terrified you'll leave me when you see what a failure I am. I'm… I'm a terrible alpha.”

She chuckled. “Noted.”

Her wit in this dire moment amazed him. “Please, Constance. Please let me prove it.”

“By bonding with me? An omega you don't want?”

He sighed and released her into one arm so he could tear at his cravat and jerk it from around his throat. Then he yanked at his shirt collar and ripped buttons free. “Here.” He sank his hand into her hair and lifted her head until she could press her nose to his neck. “Now, ask me your question and see if I speak true.”

She inhaled, and her hand lifted to clamp down on his shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“No. What I feel is so far from it as to be its opposite.”

“But you don't want me?”

He hesitated. Now, this was tricky territory. “I didn't want any omega. But you were a firebrand flaming through the Ton with your shocking tongue and carefree way. You hit me like a brick, Constance. A bolt from the blue. I knew the instant our eyes met, but I'm a broken man. How was I to be what you need when I cannot even keep myself together?”

She rested, breathing sweet breaths against his bare skin. Then, softly, she whispered, “Your words broke me. My heart shattered. In my soul, there is a wound that will not heal.”

“Constance…” His heart cried out in agony. What had he done?

Before he could speak, before he could beg forgiveness and swear on his life he would do better, pain tore through his throat when her fangs pierced his mate gland. He stiffened but didn't fight. It was the least he deserved.

The pain reduced to a dull throbbing when she lifted her mouth and swiped her tongue over the mark. “For Lizzy… I will try.” She relaxed against him and breathed out a heavy sigh, sleep overtaking her.

Bucky gasped a breath, fighting to hold back tears. She'd made the choice, now he would have days to earn her forgiveness and complete the ritual, or all would be for naught.

***

Lizzy found Peter huddled before the fire in a room that showed its years. It was - as her mother would have said - well loved.

She crossed the room and sat beside him, took his hand and propped her wet feet up on the hearth. “She’ll be alright.”

“You don’t know that.” Tears cascaded down his face.

“I do.” She squeezed his fingers. “Constance is the strongest woman I’ve ever known. I have to believe Lord Barnes will do the right thing. I have to believe he will heal the hurt he’s caused.”

“Why?” Peter asked, turning wet eyes her way. “He's the one who did this to her.”

When his face crumbled, Lizzy reached out and dragged him into her arms. She rocked him as he cried on her shoulder, the utter despair a sour tang on the air. “Because I have to. I have to believe she’ll be alright. I have to because anything else is intolerable. She’s my best friend. As close as any nest mate. I can’t imagine going on without her in my life. He _has_ to make this better. He must.” He snuffled and scrubbed at his face, but when he tried to pull away, Lizzy held him tighter. “You don’t have to hide with me, Peter. I’m an omega. I know how your instincts work, possibly better than you do. You can be soft and cry if that’s what you need.”

Again he pulled against her, but when she let go, thinking she may have pushed too hard, he simply laid down, set his head in her lap, and let the tears flow.

“You smell like the Colonel now,” he whispered.

Lizzy stroked his hair and let her tears join his.

Hope peeked in, but when Lizzy shook her head, the woman walked away. Now was not the time for betas, wonderful though they were. What Peter needed, what she needed, was Steven. No other would do.

Wanda, Lizzy knew, would be doing her utmost to talk Jarvis down. The beta would be beside himself with grief. Constance was nearly his own hatchling. She didn’t think _he_ would recover if Constance died.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, cuddled together watching the fire, but she felt him coming long before he arrived and sighed in relief when her Golden Devil filled the doorway. Peter stiffened, but Lizzy only massaged his scalp, humming softly to keep him relaxed.

Then he was there, on his knees before the settee. Soaked with the rain, he still radiated all the warmth she could ever hope for. His hand joined hers on Peter’s head while the other lifted to cup her cheek. “All we can do now is hope and pray Lord Barnes can turn things around.”

Peter sat up, shoved free of the blankets and leapt the back of the settee before darting out of the room.

“Peter!” Steve cried, but it was no good. The boy was gone.

“Omegas are pack creatures by nature. Constance was likely the first omega to show him interest. He will cling to her like an older sister. This will be very hard on him,” Lizzy murmured.

“It will be hard on all of us,” he sighed, climbing up to take Peter’s seat, but he lifted Lizzy to his lap, and curled his wings forward to dry them before the fire.

They sat in silence for a while, Lizzy taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart.

“Barnes was devastated by the sight of her. I trust he will do the right thing.”

“And what is the right thing? How do you fix this… omega sickness?” she asked.

Steven sighed and nuzzled her hair. “Usually, they are too far gone to be saved. An omega without her alpha is… well, you saw her.” Lizzy nodded slowly, remembering the deathly pale visage of her friend. “Only once have we seen the illness turn around. An omega who’s alpha died in battle was comforted by his brother. He loved her even though he knew she belonged to another. When the elder alpha died leaving the omega alone, he confessed to her, begged her to stay, convinced her to bind with him.”

“He forced a mating?” Lizzy gasped.

“No! No, not that.” He shook his head. “Only the bite. She bit him, giving her strength and purpose to try and recover. Over a few days he was able to soothe her heart enough to have her agreeing to the ritual, only then were they mated. When last I looked in on them, she was happy. Yes, sorrow still lingers, but he treats her as a queen. Loves and adores her. I think in a way, he is better for her than her chosen mate.”

“And you think that is what Lord Barnes will do? Convince Constance to fight and bind with him?”

“I think it is the only way. If she doesn’t, she will not last the night. I truly believe he loves her. One cannot look at their omega and not feel love. But he is a mule-headed alpha. Perhaps he believed he was doing the right thing, but now, faced with the reality of his decision, he knows he chose poorly.”

“I can't lose her,” Lizzy sighed. “I just can't.”

“You won't.” He stroked his fingers up and down her spine.

Lizzy wrapped her arms around Steve's neck. “I want to go home.” His heart jumped against hers, and he stiffened likely thinking she meant Iron Hall. “Home to our nest. I want to strip out of these clothes and curl up with you beneath as many blankets as we can find and just… just not think.”

He relaxed and pulled her closer. “We can do that.”

“Should we try and find Peter first?”

Steve hummed and rubbed his chin on her head. “Not right now. He'll likely go hide out with Bruce. I don't want to make an enemy of myself to him after what he said about Barnes.”

“Then tomorrow you will do something with him. Just the two of you. His favourite thing. What is his favourite thing?”

“He likes to ride through the forest. Weather permitting, I'll take him.”

“Good. He needs your care.”

“He needs yours too,” Steve murmured.

“I have an idea about that. Does he like books?”

“As much as any fifteen-year-old boy.”

Lizzy chuckled softly. “Then he isn't reading the right books.”

“What are you planning, ‘mega?”

“Something magical,” she smiled. “We could all use a little magic.”

“Yes, we all could.”

She tucked her nose up under his jaw and sighed. “What do I tell Aunt Pepper and Uncle Tony?”

“I think it may be best to give Barnes time. Your Uncle will likely be quite… enraged by all this, but he cannot be allowed to interrupt what we have set in motion. This is now between Barnes and Constance, as it should have been from the start.”

Without another word, he stood, still carrying Lizzy in his arms, and walked out of the room. She couldn't find it in herself to insist she could walk, not when being held tight in the embrace of his wings felt so incredibly right.

***

Natasha sat with her legs crossed and stared at the weeping Miss Martin. Twice she'd been tasked with dealing with the woman. Twice she'd had to listen to her wail and moan.

The governess, Victoria, was better equipped. She appeared resigned to whatever fate would befall them, and when Sam had without preamble dumped the weeping omega on her, she'd marched the woman down to their shared suite and left her sobbing on the bed as she swiftly repacked the trunk of Miss Martin's belongings.

Then, she'd ushered her into the carriage, and they'd left Winter Hall within the allotted time.

It was a good thirty minutes to town in this weather, and Natasha would not suffer to listen to the woman any longer. “Do shut up.”

The governess shot her a look. Evidently, Miss Martin was known for her wailings if she were interpreting that look correctly.

Unable to stand it a moment longer, Natasha reached across the carriage, took the woman by the chin, and purred very softly, “Cease your bellyaching this moment or else.”

“You can't speak to me that way!” Martin wailed.

The growl Natasha issued would have been enough to have anyone else doing as they were told, but the omega only cried harder. Fed up, she hauled her hand back, then swung it swiftly forward. Two startled gasps and blessed silence followed the sharp crack of her palm connecting with Martin's face.

“You… you hit me,” she whispered, her brown eyes red-rimmed and puffy, matching her nose and now the blazing handprint on her cheek.

“I did say, “or else.” That usually implies dire consequences if you ignore a command.” Natasha sat back.

“My father won't stand for this!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I belong to one of the highest ranked weyrs in England. Beta to one of the most powerful Warlord Alphas in existence. If you think you can threaten me.” She smiled her widow's smile. “Think again.”

Petulant silence settled over the carriage, but at least it was silence. It lasted nearly half the journey before Martin found her tongue again.

“What was wrong with her?” Her eyes darted up to Natasha's. “The other omega.”

“She was ill. Rejection can do that.” She refused to say any more on the subject and closed her eyes to dissuade further conversation.

When, finally, Barton pulled up outside the Inn Below the Eerie, she exited without waiting for his assistance and marched inside to make arrangements for the women.

Merle who ran the place knew better than to argue when Natasha stormed through the doors wearing what was commonly known as her “Death Face” - a moniker given by Sam and Bucky when they were too far into their drink to be afraid of her any longer.

She saw the women housed, informed him the weyr would cover their accommodations and meals for three days, and that Miss Martin's father would be collecting her and paying all expenses after the three allotted days, as well as any accrued within the village.

Merle nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, ma'am.”

Natasha leaned closer to the low-level alpha and let her wings spread in warning. “She's an omega. Foolish and impulsive. I won't have it coming back on the weyr if she is injured or assaulted in this village. Understand?”

His eyes grew very round, then he appeared annoyed for one short moment before Barton stepped through the doors, idly toying with the one visible knife on his belt. “Of course, ma'am,” Merle agreed hurriedly.

She threw Barton a look that said she had things handled, but he shrugged. The alpha was smart enough to know that even as a beta, who she was beta _too_ carried more weight than his caste being higher than her own. “Excellent. I leave Miss Martin and her companion in your hands. Send for me if there are any problems.”

A quick turn on her heels had Natasha striding toward the women stomping through the doors, the omega loudly complaining about the weather. She paused at the female's side to glare her down. “Make trouble in this village, and it will be _me_ you deal with. I'm not nearly as nice as Elizabeth or the alphas. People who cross me tend to disappear. Permanently.”

She didn't allow the woman to respond, exiting quickly to pick her way through the mud and climb the stairs to the eerie. Any other day she'd fly, but the rain was already dampening her feathers and souring her mood. Natasha seriously disliked the drizzly grey days when she had to be out in them.

“I know you're irritated, my love,” Barton murmured as he climbed with her, “but maybe we could avoid an incident like last time.”

She cast him a glower and slapped him with a wet wing. “If _Sir_ Malcolm refuses to keep a civil tongue in his head, I will not hesitate to shove him out a window a second time. Besides, he has wings.”

“I know that, my sweet, but-”

His jaws clicked shut when she spun to look at him, and by the wince, she knew he’d bitten his tongue. “Serves you right. That short-tailed swain thought he could come here and oust me from my position at the Colonel’s side by beating his chest and bellowing his greatness when he had no business being anywhere near our weyr; he’s fortunate shoving him from the top of the Eerie was all I did. And he’s even more fortunate the Colonel took pity on him and gave him this position. Do _not_ tempt me, Barton!”

He held up both hands in apparent defeat, but the smug smile curling his lips and the way he was looking at her with all the desire she could ever want to see, calmed a bit of the anger tinting her gaze red. “Pervert.”

“I find you intensely desirable when you’re feisty,  my little Russian songbird. I can’t help that.”

It made her chuckle - she refused to call it a giggle - as he intended and continued up the stairs. “Let us send this bird to Miss Martin’s father and go home. I desire a bath.” She smirked over her shoulder at him. “And your company, Master Barton.”

Fire lit his eyes and sent him bounding up the stairs past her, a rumble of excitement filling his chest. Natasha laughed and followed swiftly, just as eager both for him and to take her mind off what happened with Constance and Barnes.  

***

She slept on his bed, the rattling gurgle from her lungs much less prominent than it had been. Bucky had spent close to an hour sitting in a chair at her bedside, watching over Constance. There was an ache at his throat and another in his loins both of which he was ignoring. He had no right to feel any discomfort. Not when she had come so close to death.

Sam had knocked softly on the door to the adjoining suite, quietly informing him Constance things had been brought up. Even then he had only acknowledged his beta with a quiet grunt.

Bucky knew he should rise, open the door, and find something, anything of her nesting things to help her rest more comfortably in his bed, but it felt wrong. It felt like an invasion of her privacy. He’d already stripped her of her wet gown, finding no corset or stays beneath. He’d dried her wings by hand, taking extra care with every soft feather before tucking them under her and working on her hair.

She was as comfortable as he could make her for now with the fire high and blankets piled over her. But even now she still shivered, her hand cold when he took it between his. It wasn’t enough. His presence and blood in her veins, the half-finished bond. She was fighting a battle with her body, and her body was winning.

Quickly Bucky thrust to his feet and began to peel off his clothes. Jacket and boots had been discarded long ago, but now he lost the rest. Waistcoat and shirt came off with little thought to the buttons. His breeks were a soft, supple leather he left in place as they did little to contain his body heat. Then, he drew back the blankets covering his omega and carefully lifted her into his arms, making sure to support her wings.

She stirred enough to whimper and turn her face into his throat. It set a fresh ache in his heart. “I have you, darling. I have you.”

Her hand drifted up to lay flat against his chest and rest there when she sighed back into sleep.  

He took her to the seat before the fire, sat, and stretched his wings out to funnel the heat into her small body and absorb into his feathers. She sighed as soon as the warmth touched her, then curled farther into him, tucking her knees up in his lap.

It was adorable, in his opinion, how she seemed to be trying to get as close to him as possible. In her slumber, her instincts took over, and her omega sought him out. Sought his warmth. His scent. His protection. It would bolster the bond and help her grow stronger.

He held her gently, one big hand on her thigh while the other stroked through her hair. When he was sure his wings were warm enough, he drew them back and wrapped them around her, cocooning her in heat and scent. Then, before he could even think to do so, he rumbled out a quiet purr and tucked his nose into her hair.

He knew he should feel nothing but guilt, but a wave of contentment swept through him as if his body and soul knew _this_ was what he’d been missing all along. It was clear, now, he never should have tried to escape what the Gods had intended for him. Because for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt at peace.

Yes, his demons still howled in the background, waiting in the shadows of his mind to leap out and tear at his psyche, but holding Constance, smelling her, feeling her heartbeat against his own, it was a bliss and a joy he’d never known.

Constance's voice startled him from his near slumber. “I saw you once when I was younger. Across a crowded room. I didn't know who you were then.”

“Did you? Where?”

“At court before my parents decided court was not for them.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him with fever-bright eyes.

He arched a confused brow. “Court? I’ve rarely been. Are you certain?”

Her gaze drifted down to his wings. “They are hard to forget. You must have been young, barely a man, but I remember ebony wings. Shadow wings. Wings so dark they seemed to steal the light from around them.” She reached out but didn’t touch him.

“It must have been when Steve and I joined the army.” He caught her retreating hand and brought it to his feathers, but as soon as he released her, her hand fell away.

“Tell me why.”

“Why I joined the army?”

Her gaze returned to his. The dark circles beneath her eyes and swallow cast to her skin pained him. “Why you don’t want me.”

Bucky cupped her cheek. “I do want you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“I don’t trust you enough to believe that.”

Daggers to the heart would have been less painful than her words. “That is fine for now. I’ll earn it back, omega-”

“You have no right to that title!” she snapped, struggling to push him away.

Bucky just slipped his hand to the base of her neck and crooned a song of sorrowful apology in the language of their ancestors. He hadn’t even known he knew such a sound or could make his voice work to intone such a sorrowful song, but her eyes widened in wonder.

“I’ve… I’ve never heard such a sound before,” she whispered, once more calm against his chest.

“I didn’t know I could sing it,” he smiled. “But my heart knew the words.”

She looked at him with a stone face. It was almost impossible to read what was going on in her mind. “I sometimes feel we’ve come so far from the snarling, savage beings of our beginnings that we’ve forgotten things. Yet they’re still ingrained in our bones, the ways of those mystic beasts.”

“Constance. I meant it, truly.”

“You appeared also to mean it when you shoved me away.”

Bucky closed his eyes, aware of the pain he’d caused her. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“Yes, they can.”

He sighed. This was not doing them any good. “Before I went to France, I was just like Steve. Perhaps a little more rakish than I should have been, but being charming was something I was good at.” She arched a brow, an indication she wasn’t buying it. “I swear!”

“I have yet to see proof of that.”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat and turned his head to look into the dancing flames. “We were tearing our way through the French forces when Steve and I were separated. I was captured and taken back to a fortress in the mountains. The things that happened there… changed me.”

Her heart skipped then quickened its beat. “Torture?”

It was barely a whisper, but the question sent a chill down his spine. “In ways you couldn’t even conceive.”

Her soft hand stroked down his chest. “I can conceive a little.”

He grabbed her fingers and returned them to his chest, removing her touch from the scars that crisscrossed his abdomen. “My back is worse. There is a reason I know so much about strained flight muscles.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing on his shoulder. He wasn't sure if she realized it or how she sighed and curled closer, but he'd take whatever encouragement he could get.

“By the time I was rescued, my mind… felt shattered. There are times even now I'm not certain what is real and what is just in my head. Even you. For one heart-stopping moment, I thought you were a figment of my imagination. Then I knew you were real and I was,” he chuckled, and it was self-deprecating, “terrified. What was I supposed to do with an omega? When there are days I wake up only to find I've screamed myself hoarse… again.”

She was silent for so long he finally chanced a glance downward to see if she'd returned to sleep, but the compassion in her eyes caught him.

“Constance?”

Her hand slipped out from under his to lift and land lightly on his cheek. “I'm sorry for you. No one should go through what you have.”

He couldn't believe she could be so understanding. “So… you see why I pushed you away?”

Her brow lifted in a haughty arch. “Oh, I see, Lord Barnes. I just can't believe you would do the same to another as what was done to you.”

“I beg your pardon?” he gasped

“As you should.” Her hand fell to his shoulder then curled behind his neck when she snuggled closer.

He'd never been more confused in his entire life. Was he forgiven? Her words said one thing while her actions cried another.

“You have much to make up for, and much to learn,” Constance murmured as she sighed and slipped back into sleep.

That was becoming abundantly clear.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: more truths, more conversation, light smut
> 
> This is the first of two chapters brought to you through Coffee Updates by @georgiandean37! Thanks for your support!  
> Two more updates scheduled for this series. Coming soon!

* * *

 

They spent the night in his bed, Constance tucked beneath the bedding, Bucky curled around her on top of it. He’d tried to give her space, but every time he was away from her for more than a few minutes, the gurgle returned to her lungs and made her cough.

Each time that happened, a shot of terror screamed down his spine. He might be taking liberties, but he would rather face her wrath than her death. Still, when he crawled on his bed with her, she'd wiggled and scooted and kicked blankets and fought her wings around until she lay facing him. Then she buried her face against his chest, and her fitful sleep had ended.

When he woke, it was to an empty bed, and fresh fear shot through him until he took note of the open doors to the adjacent suite.

Bucky climbed from the bed, stretched his back and wings, marvelling at how well rested he felt. He hadn't slept that well in ages.

Not bothering with a shirt, he padded on silent feet to stand in the doorway and watch as Constance knelt beside an open chest. Her fingers danced over the fabrics and pillows within. There were more of her nesting things than he'd expected.

“I don't know what to do with them.”

He startled at her voice, having thought she was unaware of him. “You make your nest,” he said, trying for teasing.

Constance lifted her head, and her eyes were hard. “I have no desire to nest.” He could smell the lie and arched a brow. “Fine. I have no want to nest. You do not deserve to know the comfort of my nest.”

He sighed and crossed the room to kneel before her. “You're right. I don't.”

Surprise widened her eyes; then suspicion narrowed them. “You are being awfully contrite.”

“Constance…” He frowned. “How much do you remember from yesterday?”

He reached for her hands, but she pulled them away. “Collapsing in the bailey. Natasha being frantic. You on your knees begging me to stay…” She seemed to struggle for a moment before her gaze darted to his throat. “That.” She laid gentle fingers on the mark but drew them away before he could take her hand.

“Do you remember what we spoke of before the fire?” Could all of that have disappeared in fever dreams?

Then her gaze darted down to his abdominals. “Your back is worse?” she whispered.

For someone who'd been at death's door but a few hours before, she was surprisingly spry and sprang to her feet to circle him. Bucky stayed still, just drew his wings down and away, showing her the worst of the physical damage. There was no point hiding it from her.

She gave a sharp cry of distress.

“They don't hurt like they used to. They're just ugly, nothing to worry about,” he said when she made no move to speak.

He never expected her to drop down on her knees between his wings, or for her hands to slide over his bare shoulders. One hand clung there, but the other drifted down to lay over his heart. Shaky breaths and wet salt assaulted his senses. “Constance!” Her reaction made no sense to him, prompting him to reach for her arms even as her face pressed into his neck.

“You broke my heart, yet, even now, seeing what happened to you, how you could have died and I could have lost-” She cut herself off.

“Constance…” he crooned, desperately wanting to comfort her, his nose clouded with her distress. “It's in the past.”

She laid against his back, her body warm through her shift and robe - finally, after having been so cold. “I do not know how you can be a Warlord Alpha yet still not understand the workings of an omega,” she huffed, sniffing back her tears.

“Then help me understand.”

She pushed away, taking her comforting warmth with her. He watched her walk across the room to stare out the window, noticing how her wings dragged behind her. “Omegas are the matriarchs that hold a weyr together. We nurture and protect. We give of ourselves to everyone.”

“I know,” he murmured, rising to his feet.

She tossed a condescending glare at him over her shoulder. “Do you, Lord Barnes? Truly?”

He frowned, knowing he was missing an underlying truth. “I thought I did.”

“Your honesty last night was appreciated. I understand your hesitation, but did you even once stop to think about how your actions would make me feel? How you shredded the fundamental essence of my instincts?”

“I-”

She slashed her hand through the air. “You made me feel like a broken omega. Like I was so worthless I couldn't even offer you the basic support _all_ omega can give. You made me a failure without ever giving me the chance to try!”

“Constance.” He took careful steps toward her.

She drew herself up tight. “You never even gave me a chance to be what _you_ needed. You wrote me off as nothing more than a bit of fluff to be discarded.”

Her pain was a sour scent around her. Such bone-deep hurt it made him sick to smell it. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am. It was brutally unfair of me to treat you so harshly. I take full responsibility for what my actions have wrought.” Bucky held out his hands. “Please. Let me start again. Let me court you as I should have. Let me prove myself and my sincerity.”

She was pressed back away from him, anger flashing in her eyes. “I find myself inclined to believe you. My instincts drive me to be near you. But my head and my heart are another matter, Lord Barnes. Those I'm not willing to trust you with.”

“Yet.” He slipped closer, keeping his wings low and unthreatening. “I will earn your trust, Constance. And then I will chase your heart.”

Slowly and carefully, he reached for her hands and drew them away from her thin waist. Then he lifted them one at a time to his lips and grazed her knuckles. Bucky held her gaze, refusing to look away, and smiled sweetly when her lip ended up between her teeth.

“I would request you build your nest in my room, my fiery dragoness. Your continued good health depends on your proximity to me. I give you my word as a lord and Warlord Alpha; I will be a complete gentleman.” His smile grew a little wider. “Unless you request otherwise.”

The haughty brow he'd notice last night arched again. “Do not get your hopes up anytime shortly, Lord Barnes.”

He took the final step that would crowd her into the window, causing her scent to sing with nerves. Then he bent, his hair falling forward around his shoulders and lifted her hand to the mark throbbing at his throat. “I am already yours, Constance, Lady of Winter Hall. You've tied me to you, heart and soul.” Slowly, so as not to spook her, he ducked his head and drew his nose along the tight line of her jaw. She shivered and a new scent spiked. It made his mouth water, but Bucky ignored it as best he could. “I can be patient,” he whispered before stepping back and offering her a swift bow. “If you are feeling up to it, I will send for breakfast. Then we can stretch your legs.”

“Breakfast would be welcome. Thank you,” she said softly, eyeing him in minor confusion. “And I will consider building my nest, Lord Barnes.”

“James.”

“I'm sorry?” she frowned.

“My name is James or Bucky if you prefer. I give you leave to use it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How kind of you, considering you were not granted the same.”

He refused to rise to the bait and only smiled. “Quite right, but as your teeth have found a home in my throat, I thought it only right to call my mate by her given name.” He gave another jaunty, sweeping bow, and returned to his room, well aware of the myriad of emotions coming from the female in the other room.

A plan was forming in his mind to win back the heart of Constance Stark. Now he need only put it into action.

***

To say he confused her would be an understatement. After a breakfast he insisted upon sharing, Lord Barnes had introduced her to two lovely maids, Martha and Emily both Landed, and Mrs. Jones, a stout beta with wings like a sparrow. All three were pleasant, though Mrs. Jones was rather cold to Lord Barnes.

After he’d left to allow her to dress, the two maids had quietly informed her the entire keep was aware of who she was, and all the winged folk were less than impressed with the Lord who ruled here. It made Constance feel better in a way, knowing the rest of the house was on her side.

It was clear Barnes was a bonehead, but she also felt for him and the trauma he’d been through. Their conversations from last night had come back in fits and starts, but now she felt she had full recollection. Remembering her place against his bare chest, wrapped in those shadow wings, gave her chills. It was as if her skin yearned to be close to his. As if her body begged for the touch of his hands.

She knew it was merely pheromones and instincts, but he was an attractive alpha, and he was trying, of that she was sure. But she still wasn’t certain of his motives. He wanted her to believe he was all in but was he? Would he use her feelings to coerce a mating, then cast her to the side when he decided he had done his duty. He’d thrust her away once. What was to stop him from doing so again?

The abrupt one-eighty in his affections made her head spin.

But by the Gods, he could make her knees week. To be the focus of his attention was nerve-racking. Blue-grey eyes watching her every move as he took her on a tour of his home. It was slow going, her legs weak, ending with him touching her often even if it was simply a guiding hand on her back or elbow.

She couldn’t find it in her to pick her wings up and let them drag. She was too tired and too sad to bother. Barnes frowned at that, but she didn’t care. So she broke a few feathers. They’d grow back. Vanity had never been an issue for her. She cared little for her looks though she knew from all the fawning milksops she was pretty. Her mother was stunning. It was simply the outcome of good breeding. Not something to be lauded over like she had any say in the colour of her hair or shape of her face. That it annoyed Barnes when she broke a feather mattered little to her.

He’d forgone the full dress of a lord in favour of a billowing shirt and breeks, appearing more pirate than peerage today, but it gave her access to his scent and the ability to judge the honesty of his words.

They were standing in a pleasantly appointed parlour in shades of blue when Constance coughed. It was nowhere near as bad as it had been, but he still reacted like she would swoon to the floor at any moment.

“Constance?” Barnes swung around, arms out, wings lifting in concern.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, but he’d already moved to engulf her in his embrace. She stiffened, but he soothed her with a rumble and stroke of her hair.

“You need the contact, ome- Constance. That much I do know,” he muttered.

She gave in with a sigh and rested her head on his chest, allowing the hug to continue. After a few moments, she tilted her nose up. She had the overwhelming desire to lick the place her teeth had marked, but he was too tall.

As if he knew it, his arm went beneath her knees, and he carried her carefully to the window seat where he sat and perched her up on his thigh. Her head rested on his shoulder while his hand lightly passed down her wings. It was pleasant, comforting. Maybe a little more intimate than she was prepared for, but Constance didn’t protest.

Instead, she brought her nose to the mark she’d made and inhaled deeply. He smelled good. Better than good, and nuzzled there. His answering purr was deep, heady. Tumbling boulders of granite in his chest.

She relaxed and closed her eyes. Like this, she could pretend for a minute he hadn’t shattered her heart. Like this, she could pretend all was right in her world.

“Do you want to go lie down?” he asked softly, breaking her from her daydream.

Her hand slipped between the open collars of his shirt to rest against his chest. “No.”

His heart skipped and thudded. “Have you always been so inclined to cuddle?”

“I’m omega. Omegas always cuddle. Physical touch and affection are as necessary as food for us,” she answered honestly.

His hand lifted from her wings and began to card through her loose hair. “I find touch… difficult since France. Your position against my back this morning is not one I usually react well too, but you touched me, and I had no desire to move away.”

“Of course not,” she sighed, wondering how he could be so unaware.

“You keep making me sound like an idiot, Constance. But my mother was a beta. The only omega I know is Miss Hill who is more beta than omega, and Mrs. Danvish who I have little contact with. It isn’t as if I was handed a book and told to read it about the workings of an omega, or I assure you, I would have.”

His voice was rather snappish and made her lift her head to look at him. “Your Colonel seems to be fairing nicely. Weren’t you practically nest mates?”

“Steve’s mother was omega, but she died when he was young. I had not the privilege of getting to know her before that time.”

“Forgive me. I didn’t know,” Constance murmured tucking her chin.

But Barnes caught it, lifting it so she was forced to look at him. “We are in this together, Constance. We know so little about the other. It will take time.”

She watched him for a moment. “Last night, when you said you were afraid of not being what I needed, did you ever once stop to think _I_ was what _you_ needed?”

“No, I hadn’t thought of that. I was more concerned with making you miserable and losing you because of it.”

It was bluntly said but honestly so, and she could only give back the same level of truth. Constance laid her hand on his cheek. “The Gods make us alpha and omega, the beginning and the end, one for the other. Why would they ever give you someone who wasn’t what _you_ needed?” She stroked her fingertips over his cheek and down to his jaw. “I would have supported you fully and helped with the nightmares. Talked to you when you got lost in your mind and brought you back. There is nothing you could have shown me that would have pushed me away or made me run because you are mine, Lord Barnes. The gods made us one for the other. I never doubted that.”

She pushed from his lap and glided toward the hall, aware he was following before his hand even came to her elbow. When it gripped and drew her to a halt, she frowned up at him.

“I underestimated you. For that, I am deeply sorry. My regrets with you keep growing, Constance.” Again his hand carded through her hair before cupping her nape, and his lips skated her cheek in apology.

She froze, a flutter around her heart. Then he froze as if realizing what he’d done so casually. He pulled back enough to look at her with wide eyes, the blue so piercing. His gaze fell to her mouth and hung there as if entranced. He licked his lips but held back.

Finally, it was Constance who pulled away. “I… accept your apologies, Lord Barnes.” She glanced at him from behind her lashes. “Would it be acceptable to walk the grounds? It seems the weather has decided to behave after yesterday. I could stand to take the air.”

He recovered quickly from whatever had just passed between them. “Why don’t I show you the back lawn. There are tables, and I could have Mrs. Jones bring us tea.” Then he paused, and a small smile curled his lips. “Do you like dogs?”

Constance’s heart leapt. “I love dogs, but they gave Mother the sniffles so our home had to be pet free.”

Barnes’ smile grew to fill his face. “Well then, I have something to show you.”

***

Lizzy lazily traced her fingers down Steven's chest while they lay abed. “I find I’m rather partial to this spot right here.” She tapped her nail on the sleek curve of his pectoral right before it dipped down into the valley above his heart.

“Why that spot?” he asked, his smile indulgent.

“Because it shows off your strength in the thickness of your muscle, but it’s also close to your heart. Your big,” she placed a kiss there, “beautiful heart.”

“And how do you know it’s beautiful?”

She propped her chin on her hands and smiled at him. “I just do. You’re so good to me, Steven.”

His hand found her thigh resting on his and drew it over until she straddled him, her belly pressed to his swiftly growing interest. “That’s because you,” he collected her to his chest and sat up to wrap her legs around his waist, “are the best mate an alpha could hope for.”

“So says the man who is my mate,” she chuckled, rolling her hips. "You are biased." He rumbled a growl and nipped his teeth into her lip, big hands digging in to hold her still. “Don’t growl at me,” she giggled. “I’m far too happy for a grumpy, growly mate.”

They’d had word early that morning that Constance was awake and doing better, and it had given Lizzy such joy she’d tumbled Steven back into their nest and had her way with him. It seemed they could not keep their hands from each other, but Lizzy didn’t mind.

He made her so happy, and it appeared he also didn't mind when he tumbled her carefully to her back. His mouth found the tender mark on her throat, but he was gentle, licking and kissing the area until she was a wriggling wreck beneath him.

Only then did he pull back and sink into her wet heat, thrusting slowly. It was a lazy lovemaking, one full of kisses and sliding limbs, groping and caressing hands. Quiet moans and soft growls filled the room, adding to the heavy panting and sharp cries of delight when he increased his speed.

Golden wings arched, and the muscles in his chest and arms strained. Lust had turned his blue eyes red and set fangs in his lip.

Lizzy wrapped her arms around him and dragged her nails down his back. It seemed to spur him onward in the past, and when he bucked his hips hard, she knew it had done the same this time. Then she leaned up and sucked a hard mark into the swell of muscle she'd admired earlier.

He hissed a wanton sound and sought her lips, tongue delving desperately between her lips. Wet skin rocked together in a feverish embrace before Lizzy was crying his name and coming around him.

A second later, he snarled into her shoulder and warmth flooded her core. His wings floated down over them like a golden cloak, covering his naked, sweat coated body.

Unable to help herself, Lizzy ran her fingers over his feathers and giggled when he rumbled a sleepy sound.

“You're insatiable, woman.”

“Tell me you mind?” she laughed, continuing to pet him, then reaching down to caress his buttock.

“I couldn't. This is all I've longed for.” He shifted enough that he was no longer restricting her breathing, but didn't move off her completely.

“Today is going to be a good day,” Lizzy smiled. “I can feel it!” She was full of hope for the future with the good news about Constance. It was tentative hope but still hope.

Steven chuckled softly. “And it appears the weather cleared. I'll hunt down Peter and take him out with me while you work on this whimsical surprise of yours.”

“Not whimsical. _Magical!_ ” she giggled, stretching her arms over her head.

He rumbled a purr and buried his nose between her breasts. “After one more round.”

Her giggles became sultry moans when he began again to learn her body with the tip of his tongue.

***

Bucky didn't have a hoard in the traditional sense. Unlike Steven and his wall upon wall of books, Bucky's was more selective. His dogs were his hoard. The breed select, expensive, and highly sought after. 

The same applied to his horses. Steve's mount, Galahad, was one from his herd. A gift for his hatching day five years ago.

He wasn't sure what Constance's opinion of horses was, but if it was anything like her reaction when Falsworth let the pups loose from the barn, he knew they'd get on well.

Never in his life had he born witness to a lady of wealth squeal with such delight and then fall to her knees in the still damp grass to allow six excited puppies to jump on her, dirtying her gown as each tried desperately to lick her face.

Falsworth beamed, his gaze darting to Bucky's where it noticeably cooled before he glanced back at the omega covered in pale fur and smiled indulgently when Constance let loose another peal of laughter. 

His entire keep was annoyed with him, but Bucky knew if he made it right with Constance, they would all stop glaring daggers at him.

“Oh, they're precious!” she exclaimed. She clapped her hands, and all six rushed to sit before her, stunning both Bucky and his Master of Hounds. “Such good dogs,” she cooed. “Shake?” She held out her hand, and they each lifted a paw. “Down?” They dropped to their bellies, a few trying to catch her fingers with their tongues. “So good!” She gave each a hearty scratch around the ears.

“You're a natural with ‘em, milady,” Falsworth grinned.

“They're darling! You're a credit to your position mister…?”

“Falsworth, miss. And those rascals are far sight better behaved for you then they are for me.”

“Oh, I can't believe that,” she scoffed.

Bucky held down his hand to assist her from the ground. “Believe it. I had thought they'd never learn to sit.”

Without hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his palm and allowed him to draw her back to his feet. “What breed are they? I've never seen their like before.”

“Something new.” Bucky let out a whistle, and their mother loped on long legs from within the barn, followed by the rest of her pack.

When Constance squeaked and clutched at him, he thought perhaps he'd frightened her, but a glance showed it was awe that had her grip tightening.

“So beautiful.” She held her hands down to the sleek hounds, all of which were waist height with expressive faces and bright eyes.

“The brindles are the males, while the white and the pale gold are the females. The curly black is a cut male. I've been working on breeding out that curl. The short coats hold up over distance better. No mats or burrs.”

“Your breeding pool is far too narrow,” she murmured, running gentle hands over the golden's head.

“I've nine more hounds, six females, and three males, but they're housed in the other barn. Sheba is territorial when it comes to her pups.” He tugged at a golden's ear. “But Snow is her sister.” Bucky patted the white's head. “Turk is her mate.” He pointed to the bigger of the two brindles. “And Brand his brother, mate of Snow. But Clint,” he patted the black's side with firm thumps, making the dog wag his tail and grin happily, “ is the loveable clown. They tolerate him, though I'm not sure why.”

“Isn't Natasha's husband named Clint?”

Bucky smirked at her. “Yes.”

Constance snickered, then fell into Bucky when Turk shoved against her. “Oh!” she cried, clutching his shoulders.

He was quick to catch her against him. “I've got you. Forgive me. They're usually better behaved than this.” Bucky shot Falsworth a look.

“Her Highness was quite put out when the Colonel did not acknowledge her yesterday,” the man explained.

“Ah, that would do it,” Bucky chuckled. “She's quite attached to Steve.”

“Her Highness,” Constance murmured, then giggled, “Sheba. Cute.”

“She was always a bit of a royal bitch as a pup. Demanding things like access to the house and space before the fire in my room at night. Even following me to Shield Manor when I'd purposely left her behind. It was fitting.”

“They're beautiful creatures. I'm quite envious, Lord Barnes,” she smiled down at an adventurous pup playing with the edge of her wing. She lifted it away from his nipping jaws, and Bucky felt his knees weaken when she returned them to her spine where they belonged, and she'd yet to move away from him, standing in his embrace like she wanted to be there.

“You have nothing to be envious of, Constance. They are yours.”

“What!” Her head whipped up.

He hadn't meant to blurt that out quite so abruptly, but he couldn't take it back now. “This, they, are my hoard, darling. I've been working at perfecting the idle flight hound, one who could follow us over great distances without tiring, who could use both sight and scent to track us on the wing. The pups should be the culmination of that work.”

She stared at him, her emotions a jumble of scent that burned his nose before she turned away. “I think… I think I need to rest and clean up.”

“Constance?” He took her by the elbow. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I just need time.”

She removed her arm from his grasp and walked away, her wings once again dragging behind her.

Only once she was inside did Bucky bite out a sharp swear and turn away.

“T'was a good plan, milord,” Falsword said, pity in his eyes.

“Then where did I go wrong?” Bucky sighed.

The beta shrugged and began hustling the pups toward the barn closest to the house. “Omegas are complex creatures.”

Bucky sighed and gave Sheba's ear another scratch. “And confusing. Let's not forget confusing,” he murmured staring at the keep.

Maybe he needed to go bend Sam's ear and see if the beta could shed light on what just happened.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: language
> 
> This is the second of two chapters brought to you through Coffee Updates by @georgiandean37 ! Thanks for your support! 
> 
> One more update scheduled for this series!

* * *

 

Constance climbed the stairs without thought of where she was going, just needing to get away from _him_ for a few minutes. Her heart hurt, and her fears beat at her like bats against a window.

He would be so easy to love. She was fairly sure she was halfway there already. He’d been kind and caring with her, attentive and honest. His people clearly respected him and held no fear of him, not if they could shoot him such looks of disappointment and have him say nothing. Then he led her to the dogs and gods help her.

It was like he knew her one weakness. She loved all creatures, great and small, but dogs and horses held a special place in her heart. She would have ridden to Shield Manor if not for her wing and the wasting sickness making her weak.

But it wasn’t her wing or her sickness that pained her now. It was the fact that he could be so perfect, and still hurt her so badly. Her heart was already in tatters. If she let it go to his hands, she was afraid he’d crush it. She wouldn’t survive his cruelty a second time.

A small part of her whispered, _he’s anything but cruel,_ and Constance shushed it. This was not the time for fairy tales and follies. This was the time to think with a clear head, not rush in and be hurt again.

It surprised her when she found herself standing before the door to his room. She hadn’t realized she’d known the way, but there she stood, staring at the heavy oak. Finally, she pushed it open and peered at the room beyond, taking it in as she hadn’t before.

The walls were dark panels of wood, occasionally broken up with mouldings and medallions. It was very masculine, stark even, without the softer touches Constance enjoyed in her room at Iron Hall. The bed was a monstrosity, one that would comfortably fit an alpha his size, with a heavily carved wooden headboard and corner poles that rose up toward the ceiling hung in thick dark red drapery which would with the pull of a cord enclose the entire bed.

She’d never had such an extravagant bed to sleep in before and had to admit it had been quite comfortable. Moving closer, she admired the red velvet spread. It was plain, without a pattern, and extremely soft beneath her fingers. White sheets and pillowcases peeked out from beneath the disheveled mess, and while the urge to nest was strong, she ignored it for now.

The carpets were burgundy and cream, a table right for two sat beneath the expanse of windows and had been where they’d eaten breakfast, while a pretty settee with carved legs and arched back invited one to relax before the fire in comfort. Potted ferns and tall trees freshened the space and softened the dark masculinity, as did the bright landscape above the mantel.

When she went to have a closer look at the art, a stylized R in the bottom right corner caught her eye. Lizzy had said her mate painted. Was this one of his works? If it was, he had an incredible talent. Constance sat, soaking in the warmth from the fire as she took in the image and thought about what she’d gotten herself into.

A rough start, certainly, but as she’d said to him, they were a pair. The gods would not have put them together if they were not meant to be together. She had accepted his apologies, and yes, she believed they were heartfelt and true. But was she ready to forgive him?

Half of her roared yes. Half of her wanted nothing more than to submit to his will, bare her throat, and give in. But the other half was much too guarded. He’d hurt her. He’d shamed her. He’d destroyed her. If he could do it once, couldn’t he do it again?

“Get a hold of yourself!” she hissed, shoving to her feet. Wallowing in self-pity and doubt was getting her nowhere.

He had made an overture with the puppies. It was sweet how hard he'd tried and how fond he was of them. Yes, blurting out they were hers had disconcerted her greatly, and for a moment, she’d wondered if he was seeking to buy her forgiveness by showing her how perfect his hoard was. But then she’d noticed the slight wince and strain around his eyes. He hadn’t meant to do it, just blurt that out, but he also hadn’t tried to fumble the words back. She appreciated that.

From everything she’d seen in the last hours, he was a man of integrity. From everything she’d heard tell of him by Natasha, Wanda, even Peter, Barnes was an inherently good man. Could she continue to hold one discrepancy against him? When everything he’d shown her was at odds with it?

Confused, tired, and filthy, Constance went into the other room and rang for the maids. She needed to get out of her dirty gown, have a spot of tea, and rest. Already her lungs ached, and she was desperate for something sweet.

“You rang- goodness!” exclaimed Martha before she rushed in the door. “Are you hurt, milady?”

“Hm? What?” Constance looked down at herself. “Oh, no. I was playing with the puppies. But I could use your help to get out of this gown.”

Emily arrived moments later as Martha was fussing with the ties. “Did you take a fall, milady?”

Constance chuckled. “I really must look a fright. No, Emily. Lord Barnes’ puppies were most enthusiastic to make my acquaintance. Would you ask the kitchen for a tea tray and something sweet? I’m feeling quite peckish of a sudden.”

“Of course, miss!” The girl left with a wide smile, the door swinging shut behind her.

“A new day dress, milady?” Martha asked after helping her out of her wet stockings and slippers.

She shook her head. “I desire a rest after tea. Just my dressing gown is fine.”

The landed woman helped her into it, tutting over the dirty and broken feathers. She bustled over to a washstand and poured water into the basin before returning with a cloth. “You’ll want a wash after playin’ with the pups.”

Constance obediently cleaned her hands and sat on the chair before the fire in her suite. It was similar in size to the one of Barnes, but the walls were a pleasing white with little hints of blue and green in the paper. The bed did not have the same canopy, nor was it as large, but it would fit well a lady with slighter wings. Dressing tables and assorted furnishings were all just a little too fussy for her with their medallions and fancy legs, but the light colour of the wood was nice.

The suite had an air of calmness about it, one Constance appreciated.

When Martha sat on the floor and gathered Constance’s wing into her lap, she frowned. “Martha?”

“Tis a shame to leave them like this. You’ve dirt and grass in your primaries. And some of your feathers are broken,” she tsked.

“You don’t need to do that, Martha. I can take care of them later,” Constance murmured, a blush rising for how poorly she’d treated her wings.

“Beggin’ your pardon, miss if I ask an impertinent question, but why is it yours drag as they do?”

A young landed, Constance doubted she’d had many dealings with winged folk, but when the girl pulled a feather comb from her apron and began to preen and realign the veins, occasionally wiping the mud from the tips, she knew she’d been well trained. “Wings are expressive. They can say as much as a growl or a smile.”

“And what are yours saying, milady?”

“That I’m tired, sad, and broken,” she whispered, staring at the fire.

Martha’s hands froze, then swiftly began again. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still, I can be sorry for what’s happened.” Marth worked quietly for a few minutes before murmuring, “He’s really a good man.”

“I’m sure he is,” Constance sighed, closing her eyes to dissuade further conversation and to enjoy the gentle grooming.

She was just dozing, lulled by the quiet crackle of the fire when Emily returned. The scent of black leaf tea and sugar biscuits made her stomach growl.

“It sounds like you could have stood more with your breakfast, miss,” Emily smiled as she poured the tea.

“Something to that effect,” Constance sighed.

In truth, she'd eaten more at breakfast than she had in days. Barnes had seen her plate full, her cup filled, and the conversation never dull though he spoke mainly of the weyr and its people.

When he'd begun the story about Barton and how he smelled of treats, causing Natasha to fail in her assassination attempt, Constance had chuckled and told him she already knew it, having forced the story from the other woman when Lizzy's mate had teased her about it.

After her cup was full with a splash of cream, Emily handed her the cup then went to the dressing table where she retrieved Constance's hairbrush. Everything but the one trunk had been unpacked and tidied away as if she already lived there.

The idea of it wasn't displeasing. She'd long for a mate and home of her own, tired of living at home and dancing to the tune of the men who called upon her.

Just the thought of allowing another alpha near her now was enough to turn her stomach, and she reached for a biscuit sprinkled with sugar. When she sat back, Emily began working the brush through her hair.

“You've lovely thick hair. What a pretty colour.”

“My Mother’s is nearly that of a golden blush while my Father's is quite dark. But it is the same colour as his primaries, so I feel blessed to be a combination of both.”

“And such lovely feathers,” Martha added. “Like smoke and embers.”

Constance chuckled. “You are even more imaginative than my suitors. I fear none could turn such a pretty phrase.” She missed it when the girls exchanged a look over her head.

“We were told not to touch your nesting things,” Emily murmured, “but if you'd like help, miss?”

“Thank you, but no. Omegas are territorial about their nests. Should I decide to build one, no one must touch it, but myself or-” She almost said James but bit her tongue in time.

“Your mate?”

“Yes.”

Martha changed positions and began working on her other wing. “Will you be joining Lord Barnes and Sir Wilson for luncheon?”

“I don't know yet. I'm quite tired,” Constance murmured. She sipped her tea when a tickle caught in her throat and soothed it away before it became a cough.

Finally, blessedly, the women fell silent and let her be. She didn't begrudge them their questions, in most instances she welcomed them. Like Lizzy, Constance knew the Landed people were not merely cattle to be ground down under the boot of the winged. They were hard-working people, and she appreciated that, even if she had no desire to rush to their rescue as Lizzy did.

Constance liked quiet. She liked the calmness that came with sitting at the pianoforte or reading a book beneath the spread branches of an ancient tree. She liked the peace that came when riding through the woods or across the meadows.

Certainly, she could throw a dinner party or ball with the best of them. She was a Stark after all. Her father was an extravagant man when it suited him.

Thinking of her father made her flinch. He'd been on a holy tirade but days ago over Lord Barnes. What would he and her mother feel about her now living in his keep? Perhaps it would be best to keep her whereabouts private until whatever was happening here became clear.

By the time she finished her tea, and the last biscuit was gone, Martha had her wing sorted, and Emily was adding a ribbon to her braid.

“That will keep it nice should you like to have it done before tea time.”

Constance smiled at Emily and ran her fingers down the thick braid. “Thank you.” She dismissed them with a nod and a smile, waiting until they were gone before rising on shaky legs.

Her trunk of nesting things would no longer be ignored, and Constance returned to it. She'd packed far more than necessary, knowing she'd have a few weeks at Shield Manor with a bed all to herself.

From the top, she drew the cream coloured silk sheet she'd purchase the same time Lizzy had found her lace one. Her friend had always run to colours while Constance had stuck to shades of cream.

Standing in the doorway between the suites, she could imagine the glory she could create with the dark velvet already there. It would be a nest fit for a king. On a wave of desire, she threw caution to the wind and decided to just go with it.  Sure there was a perfectly acceptable bed behind her, but he had asked her to make her nest here. Why fight what they both wanted?

In very little time, she had his bed stripped and was remaking it with the cream silk sheets. Pillows in ivory and white, some with satin panels or lace edges or tasselled corners soon followed. Two thick white furs hung over the foot of the bed, unneeded really for this time of year, but she liked them for lazy days when she wanted a nap or to just curl up and read.

Then, because she felt the need and had packed them on a whim, she drew forth the three sheer panels of gossamer spider silk she'd begged and pleaded and bargained for with her father. The expense was outrageous, but she'd seen them at the clothiers in London and had to have them.  

Her mother, of course, was instrumental in achieving her goal, knowing an omega desire when she saw one. Being a savvy woman, it was Pepper who haggled, forcing Constance to leave before she gave away just how badly she wanted them and had the vendor increase the price.

But now, for the first time, Constance climbed up on the bed and used the cache of sewing pins tucked at the bottom of her trunk to slowly and carefully pin them up. One by one the panels enclosed the bed. It wasn't permanent, but that would take a hand more skilled than hers to see the sheers properly attached to the bed curtains. Still, by the time she finished, now more than a little tired, the bed was a haven of soft muted light with red velvet and shades of white interior.

It would be like sleeping in a romantic bower made from roses of red and white. Petal soft and dreamy. The panels weren't quite long enough to fully connect at the foot, leaving a gap that would allow for someone to peak in and see clearly what the sheers now hid.

Exhausted and shaking from the exertion, Constance collapsed into the middle of her nest with a content sigh and pulled one of Barnes’ pillows to her. Her final thought before drifting into sleep was, “ _Finally, it smells right.”_

_***_

Steve found Peter sitting on the edge of the roof and flew up to join him, perching there balanced, wings spread catching the light. “Peter.”

“Colonel,” he muttered, picking at the leg of his pants.

Carefully, Steve lowered himself to sit on the narrow stone ledge with the boy. It was a place he’d often perched as a fledgling, but he remembered it being more comfortable. Although, he had been a lot smaller at the time. “How are you doing, Pete?” The boy shrugged. “Sam was here this morning. He said Constance is better.”

“I heard.”

Steve reached out and ruffled his hair. “I thought that would cheer you up.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m happy she’s getting better.”

“But?”

“But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place!” he snapped.

“No,” Steve sighed, “it shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t get it!” Peter continued, shoving off the ledge to hover in the air before Steve. “She’s sweet and pretty and _perfect_! How could he _not_ want her?”

No matter how many times Steve had seen Peter fly like that, it still amazed him. “You’re a little sweet on Constance, aren’t you?”

The boy blushed red. “No, I’m not!”

Steve chuckled. “It’s okay, Pete. Happens to the best of us eventually.”

Peter flitted side to side like he did when he was nervous. “It’s not like that. I like her, sure. She was nice to me. I’ve never had another omega be nice to me before. Well, besides Miss Lizzy. She was so nice yesterday.”

“Of course she was. Lizzy was as worried about you yesterday as she was Constance.”

“She said… she said she knew more about me than I probably do. My nature.”

Steve nodded slowly. “She’s probably right.”

He twisted his hands together and peeked out from behind his hair. “I felt… comfortable with Connie,” he whispered. “If she becomes Lord Barnes mate, will I lose my friend?”

“Peter, no, but Constance is Bucky’s mate. She will spend time away from here in their home.” Steve held out his hand and patted the ledge beside him. When the boy fluttered over and settled down, Steve laid his hand on his shoulder. “Elizabeth wants to be your friend too, Pete. She’s shooed me from the keep so she can build a surprise for you and her to share.”

“Really?” Peter asked, lifting his head in surprise.

“Really,” Steve chuckled. “I thought we could take the horses out for a while… if you’re interested?”

“Yes!” he chirped and launched himself from the rooftop.

Steve followed, laughing as he leapt from the roof and floated down into the bailey. “Best hurry and change. I’ll see the horses readied.”

Peter took two steps toward the keep, then stopped and threw himself at Steve, wrapping his arms around his waist in a tight hug. “Thank you, Colonel!”

He patted the boy’s shoulder, filled with fondness for him. “You’re welcome, Pete.”

Peter darted away, and Steve turned toward the stables. It was a brilliant idea by his mate to spend some time with the boy. It really had been too long.

***

Lizzy walked into the library, and a thrill of excitement hit her. She wanted to explore and touch and discover every corner, nook, and unknown book, but first, she had to build her surprise.

When Steven had shown her the library, Lizzy had noticed a bank of windows in the center of the room on the first floor. Beneath them was a lovely window seat with thick pillows she knew would work well with her plan, but she needed a few things first.

“Well, it didn’t take long for you to find your way here,” Natasha teased, gliding in the door.

Lizzy laughed but shook her head. “It’s not what you think. I’m going to make something for Peter.”

“Oh?” Natasha drew closer. “Can I help?”

“Actually, I think you can.” As Lizzy outlined what she was doing and what she needed, Natasha’s smile grew smug.

“Lizzy dear, you came to the right beta. Come along.” Together they swept from the room and began the trek up to the attic space within the keep on the third floor. “The last time the keep was redecorated, Lady Denton, the Colonel’s mother, had everything stored away in trunks rather than throwing it out.”

Lizzy frowned. “How would you know that?”

“One of the first things I do when arriving somewhere new, is learn every square inch so I may be at my best for our alpha.”

They climbed a few stairs in silence before Lizzy asked, “Natasha? You were a spy and an assassin before, yes?”

“Was and still am, just for the other side now,” she nodded.

“Why would the French send an assassin to kill a Captain?”

Natasha glanced over her shoulder. “He is a very important man.”

“But why? Aren’t there many Captains? Colonels? Why Steven?”

“That is a question you will need to ask your mate, but I will tell you this. The Colonel is no small part of England’s force. He and this weyr are a major component of the war effort. Without them, Napoleon would be further ahead than he is.”

“Oh,” Lizzy whispered. “Does that mean he’ll need to return soon?”

“No, not soon. We are holding our own for the moment, but if the tide doesn’t turn in our favour, I’m afraid we will all be returning to France.”

Lizzy didn’t ask any more questions but made a mental note to ask Steven about it later. It was all so cloak and dagger, she was beginning to wonder if the title of spy didn’t only belong to Natasha.

The attic was a wide expanse of floor filled with discarded furniture, trunks, and chests that Natasha began to open one by one until she found the one she was looking for. “Ah! Here.”

Lizzy hurried over and gasped at the fabric she found within. “Oh, this is perfect!” The linen was thin but had been embellished with seed pearl beads and silver threads. “I do hope it’s long enough.”

“Only one way to be sure.” Natasha began to gather it from within, yard upon yard into her arms, and when she came to the end, another length appeared beneath.

“Wonderful!” Lizzy laughed, having more than she needed. They dragged the yards of linen down the stairs, lengths of it trailing along behind them, but instead of returning to the main floor, Lizzy went through the doors on the second where she made her way around to the balcony railing above the window alcove.

“How do we do this?” Natasha asked.

“Well, let’s see if it’s long enough first.” Lizzy heaved the fabric in her arms over the edge of the railing, made sure she had a tight hold on one end, and let it drop. It fluttered down and landed with a soft plop that made her grin. “Perfect.” She dropped to her knees to tie the ends of the linen to two of the wrought iron railings. Then Natasha followed her lead.

Once both curtains draped smartly from the second floor, Lizzy headed for the stairs and dashed down the spiral staircase to take in her handiwork. She grinned and nodded, pleased with their start. “Yes, this will work. I just need a few more things.”

“And I think we could use some muscle,” Natasha chuckled. “Were you really going to do all this yourself?”

“If I had to, but it would go faster with help, and people who know where to find what I needed.”

“Well, then.” Natasha moved across the room and rang the bell pull. “Let’s add a few recruits to your endeavor.”

***

Bucky sighed and landed with a distinct thump beside Sam after telling the beta everything. “I have no idea what I did wrong.”

Sam only glared at him before dragging a hand over his face. “How did I end up with such a dense alpha?”

“Pushing, Wilson,” he growled.

Sam only rolled his eyes. “Offering her your hoard could have been seen as a way to buy her affection, oh brilliant one.”

“But I didn’t mean that!” Bucky huffed.

“You have to look at this from her perspective. You, her alpha, cast her aside without a thought. Then when things looked dire, your opinion of her changes completely. She’s already said she doesn’t trust you, and why should she?”

“Just whose side are you on?” Bucky grumbled.

“I’m on both your sides. Do you honestly think I want to watch her waste away or watch you lose everything if she does? I know as well as you do what happens if that bond stays half finished. How bad does it hurt?”

Bucky ran his hand over the mark. “It’s fine, but my teeth ache.”

“And the other?” He waved a hand in the general direction of Bucky’s pants.

“I’ll survive,” he growled. “It wouldn’t be the first time I denied my cock what it wanted.”

“Only this time you deny your instincts. It will be three times harder, my friend.”

Bucky didn’t need the reminder. He’d damn near kissed Constance in the parlour.

“You have to give her a little time. Offering her your hoard was… not your best move.”

“I know.” He thrust a hand through his hair.

“She may look at it as you trying to purchase her affections.”

“I would never!” Bucky snapped.

Sam held up his hands. “I am aware of this. But you must see it from her side. This is no longer about you, your wants, your desires. It is about her. Her wants, needs, desires, and fears.”

“Fears?” Bucky frowned at him.

“Omegas are far more fragile than they seem. You can easily bruise an emotional creature like them. Their nature is to nurture, to protect and provide.”

“I thought that was my job.”

Sam arched a brow. “I have three omega sisters. You want my help or not?” Bucky ducked his head and motioned for him to continue. “Hm. Alpha’s protect with strength, fists, whit, and by seeing their mate comfortable and happy, but an omega protects and provides in ways we - I mean men - had no concept of. They are an emotional support system for us. It never failed, if I were having a bad day, one or more of my sisters would just appear like magic to snuggle up against me, soothe my heart, let me dump my problem on them, then solve it with a few caring words or, in some cases, a slap to the head. Omegas _fix_ us, Barnes. That’s why they are the heart of a weyr. They just make everything right.”

“Oh.” He was beginning to see how badly he’d screwed up. “She said I damaged her at a fundamental level.”

“You did. You didn’t need to say the words, but your actions spoke clearly. You told her she couldn’t fix you; that you didn’t think her capable of it. You are her mate, and you denied her the one thing all omega need. A home and a weyr to nurture.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky felt sick and bent over his knees to place his head in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Would you have listened? Would you have gone and begged forgiveness on bended knees if Miss Stark hadn’t become omega sick?” Anger cracked in Sam’s voice.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you. Miss Stark deserved better than what she got from you.” Sam shoved to his feet and went to pour himself a drink.

“How do I fix it?” he asked. “How do I make her see that I… I…”

“You what?” Sam turned, holding the bottle in one hand and a glass in the other.

He could hardly believe what he was about to say after such a short amount of time. “I… I think I love her.”

Sam snorted and poured three fingers of brandy in the tumbler. “Of course you do. I swear. Did no one teach you anything about omegas?”

“It wasn’t high on my father’s list of priorities. And my mother was beta,” he said defensively.

“When they broke your spirit in France, did they break your alpha too?” Sam asked softly. “Because you need only listen to know these things.”

“Not broken,” Bucky whispered, “just… confused. A little… twisted.”

“How?”

“It’s silent a lot. There are times it’s a roar and others when I get nothing,” he sighed and shook his head. “I’m a terrible alpha.”

“No, you’re a damaged one, but that’s why you have an omega. You need to let her help you as much as you try and help her. And tell her the truth. She deserves that from you.”

Bucky pushed to his feet. “You’re right… for once,” he smirked at Sam who rolled his eyes. “I think I will go check on her. I don’t like what her lungs do when I leave her for too long.”

Sam smirked but tilted his head. “Give yourself a chance, Buck. You can do this.”

“Thank you, Sam.” With a nod, Bucky exited the room and jogged up the stairs filled with more hope then he’d had before. At the door to his room, he paused, took a deep breath and walked inside only to stop short.

“Oh… wow.” She’d built her nest and what a glorious nest it was.

Like something out of a fairy tale, the gauzy curtains became a tease to the senses for he could see her, but only just. White fur peaked out at the corners, and his heart skipped a beat at the idea of stretching her out naked on those furs and touching every inch of her skin.

He drew closer, toeing off his boots as he went, and pulled back the curtain. He wasn’t sure how she’d accomplished such a feat in her state but was astounded by her all the same. Then he got a good look at his bed and inhaled sharply. Layers of white like frothy cream blended with the deep red and dark wood. It was a combination of innocence and sin like he’d never seen.

It looked decadent. He wanted to crawl onto the bed and sink into the pillows, gather Constance close and hold her tight. But…. She’d said he wasn’t worthy of her nest, and she was right. Not yet at least.

Instead, he sat on the edge and watched her sleep. Dark lashes swept her slightly flushed cheeks. Her hair had been braided and lay over her shoulder with a blue ribbon tied at the end. She really was stunning. He’d thought so when he’d seen her across the ballroom at Iron Hall.

She inhaled and coughed, jerking awake. “Mm? Lord Barnes?”

“Constance. What a wonderful nest,” he smiled.

She looked at him for a long moment, and he wasn’t sure if she was sleep muddle or simply assessing him. When she reached out for him and took his hand, he expected it was the latter. Then she tugged on him, surprising him into crawling on the bed with her.

He laid down facing her, holding in his shock when she moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Her hand slipped beneath the collars of his shirt and settled over his heart. “Constance?”

“You could have joined me.”

“You said I wasn’t worthy of your nest,” he murmured.

“Yes, well, I changed my mind.” Her wing shifted to lay over them. “Can we stay here for a while? I’m still tired.”

“Of course, darling.” He tucked his nose into her hair and inhaled. “I must beg your forgiveness in regards to the puppies. I understand that my giving them to you could have been misconstrued, and I do not want you to think I was trying to… purchase your affection.”

She smiled, and he could feel it spread against his throat. “I may have thought it for a moment, but then discarded the notion.”

“You did?”

“Mm. Your look of terror spoke volumes.”

“Look of terror, hm?” he chuckled.

She breathed against him, her lips moving over his skin. “I’ve been known to blurt things out a time or two without thinking them through first.” Then she tilted her head back to look up at him.

Her smile was so sweet, so soft, his heart lurched. “I feel compelled to apologize to you every time I look at you. You were right. There were things I didn't understand about omegas that have now been made clear. What I did to you in my ignorance,” he shook his head, “it is unconscionable.” He brought his hand up to her cheek. “I am so very sorry. I was thinking only of myself.”

Her lips parted on a soft expulsion of breath and tears glimmered in her eyes. “I appreciate that.”

“Will you give me a chance, Constance? To make it up to you?”

Her eyes darted between his, seeking answers. “Yes… James.”

His heart leapt.

“Just… don't hurt me again,” she whispered.

“Never!” He pulled her in and held her tightly. “I couldn't, Constance. I couldn't.”

She gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed fully against him, allowing her exhaustion to see her sliding back into sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: All Fluff

* * *

 

Steve and Peter returned a few hours later, the horses sweaty after their exertion. They'd had fun, and by the time they turned their mounts for home, Peter was back to his cheerful, chirping self, asking questions about everything under the sun.

Steve gripped the omega's shoulder as they crossed the bailey. “You did well, Peter. Soon, I think, we can upgrade your mare to something with a little more energy.”

“A stallion like Galahad?” Peter asked, _hope_ scenting the air around him.

“Not quite yet,” Steve chuckled, patting the boy's shoulder when _hope_ became _disappointment,_ “but I'm sure we can find a fine gelding to suit you.” Fresh excitement bloomed, and Peter's wings fluttered, lifting the boy a good foot off the ground.

Steve smiled, content to know he'd lifted the spirits of one of his weyr, and glanced up to find Elizabeth standing at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped tightly together.

When Peter noticed her, he dashed forward, happiness on the wing. “Lady Lizzy! I'm to get a gelding!”

“How wonderful, Peter!” she reached out and hugged him, her nose wrinkling, causing Steve to notice just how badly they stunk of horse. She drew back, her smile still as bright, and patted Peter's cheek. “Why don't you get cleaned up and meet me in the hall outside the library when you're finished.”

“Aw, not lessons,” he pouted.

“Not lessons, but I might have encouraged our alpha out the door to put together a little surprise for you.”

“Me?” he whispered, pointing at his chest. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Hurry now. No peeking, though, if you beat Steven and I to the doors. I will be most cross if you do.”

“I promise!” Peter nodded and was gone in a flash of nearly invisible wings.

Steve climbed the stairs with a little less vigour but felt almost as much excitement as Peter. “You finished? I was hoping we were gone long enough.”

“Oh, Steven! It was wonderful! Natasha was so helpful, and then Clint, Jarvis, Scott and even Ross came in to help. The whole weyr pitched in! Wanda and Hope help Natasha and I find everything we needed. I do so hope he likes it.”

Steve cupped her face between his palms and placed a tender kiss on the lip she kept biting. “Whatever you've done, I'm certain Peter will like it. Occasionally we forget he's omega, especially with his other gifts. We neglect that instinctual part of him because he doesn't often show it. May I ask what you've done?”

Lizzy smiled, slow and full of mischief. “I think you can wait to be surprised as well, alpha.”

“Teasing, omega. I guess I should hurry and relieve myself of the stench of horse so Peter doesn't have to wait.”

She turned and led the way into the keep. “Dugan is laying out fresh clothes for you. I called for him when I saw the two of you come out of the forest.”

“Were you watching for us, darling?” Steve grinned.

She threw a smug smile over her shoulder. “Maybe.”

It filled him with surprising pleasure to know he had someone at home who would watch for his return. Who would be there waiting for him with open arms.

He reached between her wings and stroked his finger down the bare skin there. Even with his mark a deep red on her throat, it was still a little surreal that she was here, she was his, and she always would be.

The spike in her scent made him purr and step into her, his hands finding her waist and pulling her back so he could tuck his nose beneath her ear. “‘Mega,” he rumbled and sucked on her skin gently, not wanting to irritate the raw mark.

“Steven… later. Peter first.”

He grumbled but sighed. “You’re right, of course, but it may be best if you wait for me at the library. I’m not sure I can keep my hands to myself if you join me.”

She giggled and wiggled away, but let a wing caress him seductively as she went. “Don’t take too long, Steven.”

He watched her walk away down the hall and went up the stone stairs at the front of the keep because, Gods help him, if he followed her down to the ones nearest their rooms he would pin her against the wall, lift her skirts, and have his way with her against the door to the library. He hadn’t known taking a mate would make him insatiable in this way. He wanted her with an intensity that would have been frightening if it wasn’t so damn fun.

Long strides carried him to the door and swiftly inside their room. Lizzy had evidently taken time to straighten their nest as the twist of blankets had been tucked neatly away, and all the pillows were plumped and fluffed, creating an invitation to come, lie down, rest. It was tempting, but he turned to the open door of his dressing room where Dugan waited.

“Did you have a pleasant ride, my lord?”

“Very,” Steve smiled. “It looks like Peter is in need of a new mount. He’s quite outgrown this mare.”

“I’m sure he will be pleased by that.”

Steve frowned at the beta. “Something wrong, Dugan?” Dugan shot him a look, and Steve realized the man was fighting to contain his smile and excitement. “I take it you assisted Elizabeth in her endeavour?”

“She’s made magic, Colonel. Magic!” he chuckled.

“Then I suppose you had best work magic that I may return to my lady before Peter runs out of patience.”

They worked together to get Steve out of his boots and coat before Steve stripped to his undergarments and began pulling on the clothes Dugan had laid out while the beta ran a warm, damp rag over his wings, removing the dust, dirt, and stench of horse from the feathers.

When Steve began to tie his cravat, Dugan batted his hands out of the way. “We may be in a hurry, but that does not mean you are allowed to leave my presence with your cravat appearing to have been tied by a hatchling.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I do know how to tie a cravat. I did it all by myself before you were here to scold me about it.”

“Yes, but since I’ve been your valet, there have also been fewer titters of amusement and more compliments on your attire.” Dugan gave the cloth a final pluck and brushed down the shoulders of Steve’s jacket.

“Good Gods, man! I’m not having dinner with the Prince Regent!” Steve huffed.

“No, you are joining your already nervous and anxious omega who is about to present an essential member of her new weyr with a gift that will either go incredibly well or incredibly poorly. Stand still!”

He arched a brow but stopped fidgeting, allowing Dugan to finish primping and plucking. “Just what is this surprise gift?”

Dugan shot him a look full of exasperation. “If you think I will ruin Lady Elizabeth’s surprise, you are sorely mistaken, my lord. There. You are presentable.”

With a shake of his head, Steve left the dressing room and hurried down the hall, surprised when Dugan followed instead of remaining behind.

“If you think I’ll miss this, you’d be wrong, my lord,” Dugan smirked, bowed, and snuck through the upstairs library doors.

Steve stared for a moment, a little worried that everyone was so invested with whatever it was Lizzy had done. What if Peter didn’t like it? The whole weyr would be crushed.

Forgoing the stairs, Steve leapt the railing and let his wings slow his descent, but the landing still sent a shock of pain up his thigh. He’d been doing so well, he’d forgotten about the not quite fully healed bullet wound.

“Steven!” Elizabeth gasped when he grunted. “What in the world were you thinking? If you’ve torn open that wound again I’ll be of half a mind to smack you.”

“It’s fine, Elizabeth.” He made sure not to limp when he walked toward her. It was only a little tender, but he wasn’t about to say so. “No Peter yet?”

“I’m here!” the boy cried, running down the hallway while fighting to finish the ties on his shirt.

Lizzy tsked and turned toward him. “It’s not going anywhere. You could have finished dressing.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Lizzy. I’m just too curious,” Peter mumbled, a blush rising on his cheeks.

She smiled and patted one gently after finishing the ties herself. “Then I guess you’d best open the door.”

The nerves of two omegas rose to soak his nose when Peter’s nervous excitement began to war with Lizzy’s regular nerves. Steve moved closer when Peter set his hand on the doorknob and curled his wing around Elizabeth’s shoulders.

Peter shot her another glance, then swung the door inward with force, nearly sending it sailing into the wall. His jaw dropped as he stared inside and wonder filled his face.

Busy watching the boy’s reaction, Steve didn’t notice the contraption within the room right off, but once he did, he figured his face likely mirrored Peter’s.

From the second floor gauzy panels of fabric, ones he remembered once hanging in the green room before it became the green room, created a great, conical shape, flowing out and down until they formed a perfect circle on the floor.  He moved closer to Peter, eventually prodding the boy forward because Steve needed to know how she’d managed to make the fabric stay in that shape.

“There is an opening to the left,” Lizzy said softly.

Peter hurried forward with Steve hot on his heels, but it was the boy’s gasp that filled the room.

A round rug, one Steve had never seen before but clearly owned, was the reason for the stationary drapery, but it was the interior that he gaped at. A pile of pillows, blankets, furs, and other fabrics were waiting, the perfect invitation to climb in, cozy up, and read a book.

“You… you built me a nest?” Peter whispered, his eyes enormous and wet with unshed tears when he turned to look at Elizabeth.

Lizzy nodded slowly, worrying her hands, now twisted together. “I hope that’s alright. I thought… maybe we could share it? I can show you a few of my favourite stories.”

One tear tracked down Peter's cheek before he launched himself at Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Peter. You're so welcome.” Lizzy pet his hair and hugged him back. “Why don't you see if it's to your liking, okay?”

He nodded but kept his face down, not want anyone to see the tears Steve could smell.

A little choked up himself, he cast a glance around to find the rest of his weyr watching from the main floor, and about a third of the servants from the second. Almost all of them looked and smelt as emotional as Steve felt.

When he turned to Elizabeth, he drew her into his arms. “How did you know?”

“I didn't really, but he gives off subtle clues that another omega would notice, how he fidgets. How he hides in the rafters or the roof or off with Doctor Banner. Natasha let me peek in his room. Not enough to invade, but just to see his bed. He wants to nest. I can tell by the mess of pillows and blankets, but I don't think he understands the desire.”

A bit of anguish hit him in the heart. “I didn't even think…” Peter was under his care, but he'd never even thought about nesting or omega things with Peter, too concerned with keeping him safe.

Lizzy lightly touched his cheek. “Why would you? Male omegas are so rare and so vulnerable. Just keeping him safe was your top priority. And I doubt he goes to market days or to the village where that desire for _things_ comes up. But Natasha said he often sneaks a feel of her gown, or steals velvet pillows from the sitting room. A nest is an omegas safe place. A place of comfort. A place we know no one will disturb our scents. A place that eventually will be guarded fiercely by our alpha.” She smiled at the boy sprawled on his back in the pile of pillows. “How much of that applies to Peter, I don't know, but I can give him this. A nest he can use and share as he wishes, and when he's ready, answers to questions he hasn't thought to ask yet.”

She was a wonder. A marvel. She was the Queen he'd been waiting for all his life. She humbled him in that instant with her understanding. “You amaze me, Elizabeth.”

A blush rose on her cheeks and pleasure bloomed in her smile. “I just wanted to cheer him. Then I got started and… it became so much more.”

He lowered his head to brush their lips together softly, eventually placing a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth before looking up to take in the happy and slightly weepy faces of the men and women of his weyr. They were all so excited for Peter, and it was all thanks to Elizabeth.

She’d been the binding force that had pulled them all together to create something so unique, so magical, just for Peter. “Thank you,” he said, then looked up at the hovering servants. “All of you.”

“Colonel! Come see!”

Steve grinned at his people, smiled for Lizzy, and went to join Peter. Though he had to duck through the door, it was more than tall enough for him to stand up inside and marvel again at Lizzy’s ingenuity. It was a good stretch of wings wide, perhaps not his wingspan, but that of a beta certainly, with a foot of clear space around the outside of the mound of pillows. He recognized the cushions on the floor as the ones which had previously belonged to the window seat in the library. The others, he knew, had been pilfered from all over the house, including one or two that had previously been left on the bed in Elizabeth’s suite. That she would give items chosen for her nest to Peter caused the same choked sensation in his throat. Quaint. Comfortable. Cozy. Those were all words he could apply to the room while the sun streaming inside the library was softened within Peter’s nest.

“Look at all these _things_!” the boy exclaimed, burying his hands in a thick fur blanket Steve was sure had once belonged to Natasha. A fringe pillow was from Hope’s sitting room. A round one with satin ribbon should have been in Wanda’s. There were bits of things from everyone he realized, and Steve lowered to kneel on a cushion.

“Peter, I am… so sorry,” Steve said, his voice hoarse with apology.

Peter’s face went ashen. “I can’t keep it?”

“No, no. Of course, you can. I’m sorry I never asked you if you had other needs that weren’t being met. I should have remembered you were omega and been more observant.”

The boy hugged the pillow to his chest and sat cross-legged a few feet away. Chin resting on the top edge, Peter kept his eyes down. “Uncle Ben made me hide what I was for our protection. Sometimes we’d be in a village and something in a window would… grab me. It always hurt to walk away.”

“Pete,” Steve whispered. He shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter, but the _hurt_ and _anger_ rising in the air said otherwise. “Peter, you don’t have to hide here.”

“Yes, I do.” He turned his face away. “I don’t want to have to go away. I don’t want to leave.”

“No one is going to make you leave, Peter. You’re part of my weyr — an omega under my protection. And I must ask your forgiveness. At times it is easy to overlook your omega nature. I never meant to dismiss you that way.”

“I was just happy to have a home,” Peter whispered. His eyes darted anxiously up and away.

“Well, now you have a home and a nest. Is this alright, or would you prefer something more private?”

Peter shook his head. “I like this. Everyone’s scents are here. People can visit. I don’t mind sharing.”

And Steve could tell he really didn’t. “Alright, Peter, but this is _your_ nest. If you need to be alone, you can close the curtain and we’ll let you be.”

This time it was Steve the boy launched himself at, hugging him tightly before bouncing away to dig and push and shove things around, happy little chirps and rumbles of pleasure in the action.

Lizzy stuck her head inside and smiled as she watched Peter fuss everything around until he was happy. “Now, I heard you don’t really like reading.” Peter paled a little but answered honestly when he shook his head. “That just means you’re not reading the right things. Here.” She pulled a book from behind her back. “I want you to try this one and see what you think.”

“What is it?” Peter asked suspiciously.

“It’s called Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift. I just happened to come upon it in the stacks. The library is beautiful, but it needs serious organization, Steven.”

He smirked up at her. “I only collected them, darling. I’ll leave the organizing up to you.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but a smile was twitching her lips. “I want you to read it and tell me honestly what you think. If it wasn’t to your taste, we can discuss in further detail what you do like. Books are like people. The right one is out there, we just need to find it for you.”

Steve took the book from her and handed it to Peter. “Daylight reading in here only unless someone is here to supervise candles and lanterns. Understand?”

“Yes, Colonel,” Peter nodded.

“Good. We’ll leave you to get settled, and I meant what I said, Peter. If there is something you need, you tell Elizabeth or I. You are part of this weyr.”

A blush burned Peter’s cheeks when he nodded. “I was… afraid. Not even my uncle really understood… and then he’d say it was too girly.”

“Peter,” Elizabeth swept in to set her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It isn’t about being feminine or masculine. It’s about your nature and what it’s telling you. I know some of this must be very confusing for you, even I am a little out of my depth, but I am available if you need to talk or have questions about things others have snarled at you for. We’ll learn together, alright?”

Peter gave another vigorous nod and beamed up at her. “Thank you, Lady Lizzy!”

“Just Lizzy, Peter.” She bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You have fun. I’m famished and Mrs. Danvish said she would have luncheon ready when we finished here.”

For a moment, the boy appeared torn between leaving the shelter of his nest and the lure of food, but the nest won out when he turned away. “Would it be alright if I just visited the kitchen later?”

“I’ll let Mrs. Danvish know you will be dining later and have her set a tray aside. No need to disrupt the kitchen before tea time.” Lizzy smiled and ducked back outside.

Steve rolled to his toes and followed her. The others had dispersed, leaving only his immediate weyr in attendance.

“He’s so happy,” Natasha smiled and leaned her head on Clint’s shoulder. “This was an inspired idea, Lizzy.”

“Inspired? It was bloody brilliant!” Scott grinned.

“Originally I thought just to give him a bolt hole, somewhere he could run when he needed, and a place of comfort to read, but this was so much more.”

Lizzy sighed happily, and Steve pulled her closer, draping his wing around her. “I believe you have made his year, darling.”

“He and Constance became such fast friends…”

A touch of sorrow tinged the air around her and Steve took her hand. “We would have heard by now if she wasn’t doing well. That we’ve heard nothing since this morning can only be good news.”

“Barnes is thick-skulled, but he is an honourable alpha though this has not been his best showing. He will do right by Constance. I trust him, even when I want to smack him,” Natasha smirked.

Lizzy chuckled and the tension went out of the room. Already they were all tuned to her emotions. She’d proven today she could be the heart of his weyr with what she’d accomplished for Peter. They could all see it.

“Come, darling. Let’s continue to luncheon. I’m quite famished myself after my ride.” With his words, everyone was in motion, Hope and Scott hurrying off to see to Cassie while the others accompanied them to the dining room.

The day was turning out to be one Steve knew he would remember for years to come.

***

Propped on his elbow, Bucky watched Constance sleep. There was a flush of colour in her cheeks that hadn’t been there since the day he’d broken her heart. It gave him hope that he was moving in the right direction, doing and saying the right things. Still, he worried about the disconnect he had with his alpha. One misstep, one wrong word, could undo all he’d worked so hard for.

She stirred and blinked open hazed eyes. They were more beautiful than any Bucky had ever seen before in his life, gold like honey with dark and light burst of shadows and stars.

“You’re staring, Lord Barnes,” she whispered, her voice lush and thick with sleep but carried a note of teasing to it.

He gently cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing over her cheek as his fingers curled around her neck. “Is that a problem, Miss Stark?” he smiled.

A smile flashed over her lips. “Is there something on my face? Did I do something as unladylike as snore or drool?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I was admiring your eyes.”

“Mine? Whatever for? They’re so… normal.”

Shocked, Bucky shook his head. “How could you ever think that? They are like honey, rich and warm, full of sparkling stars. In all my travels, I’ve never seen such eyes as yours.”

The gentle flush on her cheeks became brighter and her lashes lowered to hide them from him. “Thank you, James.”

He ducked his head to run his nose over her cheek lightly. “You’re so lovely, ‘meg-” He bit his tongue to stop himself, but her hand skimmed up his chest and curled around his neck, holding him close to her when he went to pull away.

Her lashes lifted, her scent spiked, and Bucky found himself drowning in honey, soft and sweet. “Alpha,” she whispered, applying pressure to his neck to draw him closer. Then she lifted her chin and brushed her mouth over his.

Bucky froze, then sighed and sank down to gently nibble on her lip. He didn’t rush, and he didn’t push her, just settled in to wait for her to press forward or retreat. When a soft purr hummed from her her throat, he tilted his head and kissed a little deeper, his thumb stroking her skin. He could feel her pulse pickup beneath his fingers and smell the sweet spice of arousal soak into the honeyed tone of her skin.

She whimpered, and Bucky lifted slowly away from her lips, giving them both a chance to catch their breath and slow racing hearts.

“That was… pleasant,” she smiled.

“It was,” he agreed. There was _joy_ in her scent that hadn't been there before and the alpha inside him roared with triumph. The feeling was so strong, red washed through his vision and had him jerking away from her when it set his heart pounding.

“James!” Constance gasped when he tumbled through the sheer curtains to land on hands and knees beside the bed.

“I'm,” he gasped in air, “alright.”

She scrambled out of her nest and down beside him hesitant hands reaching out. “You're not fine. What's wrong? Tell me, alpha, please.”

Sam's explanation about omegas became blindingly clear when Bucky looked up at Constance. In that instant he could see it. Her need to care, comfort, console, all humming around her in waves of soft omega _Will_ , touching him, caressing him, desperate to soothe.

He sat back on his heels even as he took her hands and encouraged her closer and held her tight against him. “My alpha isn't… functioning correctly. Since my time in France, I've had… problems,” he admitted softly. “I will need you to be brutally honest with me, Constance. If I'm misreading a situation between us, I need you to tell me.”

She held very still, her eyes wide and lips parted in surprise before she closed her arms around his neck. “Oh, James…”

He closed his eyes and tucked his face against her throat. “I really am a terrible alpha,” he sighed.

“No, just a little damaged.”

Her words filled his heart, and Bucky pressed a soft kiss to her neck. When she didn't protest, he placed another and rubbed his nose along her jaw until he could lick her scent gland beneath her ear.

“You smell so good, omega,” he breathed against her skin.

She moaned a quiet, “Bucky,” and set his alpha roaring a second time.

Bucky took a tight hold on his screaming instincts and drew back to look at Constance through a haze of red. “Tell me you're not ready.”

Her eyes were full of compassion and regret when she took his face between her hands. “I'm not ready.”

The red washed out of his vision. “Thank you,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I give you my word, Constance, my solemn vow, I will not mate with you until you are ready. You need only give me the word.” There was silence for a moment and then a soft giggle had his eyes popping open to find her grinning at him. “What?”

“Give you the word? And what word should that be, my lord Barnes? Something shocking I can whisper in your ear? Or perhaps something easily slipped into conversation like… needlepoint?”

A bark of startled laughter left him. “I happen to know you like needlepoint, darling, so maybe not something so well used.” The pillows upon the sofas in her sitting room at Iron Hall showcased her talents in that department.

She bit her lip, drawing his attention to the plump flesh. “Perhaps I should put more thought into it.”

“Maybe over a nice meal?” he asked.

Her stomach growled, answering for her. “That would be acceptable,” she blushed but smiled when he lifted them both to their feet.

“Excellent, and you should meet Sam. I think you will get on well seeing as he, too, likes to tease me.”

Constance chuckled and ran her hands through her hair. “Give me a moment to freshen up?”

“Of course.” He tilted his head and stepped back, watching as she walked into the adjoining bedroom. Bucky couldn’t hide the smile that spread on his lips. Her wings, while not quite back where they belonged, were no longer dragging so heavily behind her.

She was getting better. Thank the Gods.

Now, he need only keep helping her improve.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: heavy on the smut, Bucky/Constance centric
> 
> This update brought to you by @gerogiadean37. Thanks for your support!

* * *

 

Two days later, when Constance woke to the patter of rain on the windows, she didn’t mind it at all. Not with how a quiet snore rumbled against her spine followed by a puff of air over her cheek when Bucky exhaled. These last few days had been everything she could ever hope for.

Meeting Sam had been a wonderful experience. The beta was exceptionally good at teasing the alpha without ever taking it too far, keeping Bucky from growing distant or brooding. He was a lovely man, jovial, spritely, full of wit and wisdom Constance teased could only come from having three omega sisters. He, smart man, had wholeheartedly agreed with her, his grin flashing straight white teeth.

She adored him at first meeting and insisted on taking every meal together from that moment on. Bucky had grumbled a little, but it was only a little at having to share her company, and consented, happy to make her happy, he said.

Constance could see, now, what Bucky meant about losing himself to his mind. Occasionally he would drift out of the conversation as if something within it had tweaked a memory for him. Or, at times, he would fixate on her, eyes intense but unfocused, and she knew he was reliving the mistakes of their first days.

In the two days since her recovery began, Constance had loosened up, let go of the tight reins she’d held while complying to society’s belief of being an upstanding lady and allowed more of her intrinsic nature to come out when Bucky would become lost to himself. He’d asked her to be brutally honest with him, but his manners and mannerisms had nothing to do with what was happening in his mind.

He was perfectly polite, the consummate gentleman, a Lord at his finest. It was the alpha in him that struggled to make heads or tails of things. With his plea in her heart, she did all that she could to assist.

The first time she’d watched him drift, she’d been conversing with Sam, the discussion lively, and hadn’t noticed Bucky grow silent and still until the space he occupied, where the hum of _alpha_ resided in her senses like a beacon that always informed her of his location, simply shut off. He went blank and startled Constance enough to have her turning toward him.

A glance with Sam assured her he’d seen this same thing before, but when the beta made to draw his attention, Constance shook her head and rose to go to Bucky. Appearing feral and wild-eyed, whatever held his attention was upsetting him, and Constance went to her knees at the side of his chair. A light touch to his hand had his attention snapping to her.

“Alpha?” she murmured, sliding her fingers up his arm. “How can I help?”

The pale blue went out of his eyes as his hand turned over to lift and cup her cheek. “You already have.”

He urged her up to her feet and then down into his lap as if it were the most natural thing for her to cuddle against his chest, wings of black and wings of ash curving and caressing until they settled together and the conversation with Sam resumed

The beta beamed, his face and scent so full of joy it had made Constance giggle.

Now, when Bucky appeared lost, when he would drift out of touch with those around him - which, granted, wasn’t often - Constance didn’t hesitate to curl up beside him if there was room, or simply sit in his lap if there wasn’t.

They were substantially closer for it, so much so it was nothing for her to sink into his lap, turn his face gently to hers, and kiss him softly on the lips when that broody face of his appeared. It did wonders to clear the dense darkness from his scent and soothe his conscience. Often, if they were alone, one kiss became many until he was all she could smell in the room, his scent thick and rich and intoxicating, but she held back, uncertain why, listening far closer to the instincts born of their kind than ever before.

So she waited but enjoyed the kissing, and the way his hands would squeeze her arms or shoulders, her waist and hips, never venturing beyond the boundaries he’d imposed to keep himself in check.  

Three days since his apology and explanation, Constance had forgiven him. She understood, now, how his mind worked and how difficult some things had become for him since his time in France. He was the best flirt she’d ever seen, but then he would seem to lose a step, as if unsure of his actions. He could be commanding in one moment, suddenly shy and vulnerable in another.

He was an enigma, but Constance was enjoying figuring him out.

When his arm tightened around her waist, she gave a little squeak of surprise. He was usually quite careful in how he handled her, but this was almost violent.

Then he moaned. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, not the kind she’d drawn from his lips through kisses and caresses.

Fear and anger poured over her. His naturally warm body grew progressively colder. A defensive snarl ripped from his throat.

“Nightmare,” she whispered, finding herself pinned against him, witnessing this for the first time.

Constance turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. A furrowed brow, shiny as he broke out in a cold sweat, and pinched tight eyes greeted her. “Bucky,” she purred, tracing her fingers up and down his arm. “You’re dreaming, darling. Just a dream. Wake up.”

He shook, his arm tightening further. “No. No, I won’t! You cannot make me!”

She struggled to turn over, but he had her locked down tight. “James,” she soothed, reaching over her shoulder to lightly touch his face with the tips of her fingers. “James, come back. You’re safe. That time’s over now.”

He inhaled deeply, his mouth finding her wrist unerringly.

The tightness of his arm loosened, allowing her to turn enough, wiggle enough, to get to her back and hold his face between her hands. “It’s okay, my love. I’m here. Right here. Wake up, darling,” she whispered, her thumbs stroking his lips, her fingers light on his cheeks. “My alpha, wake up, Bucky.”

He snarled again, angry and hurting and dragged her closer.

Now face to face with him, she winced at the snap when one of her feathers broke in the awkward position.

Something in him went still with the sound, then his eyes opened, revealing engulfed red orbs. “You won’t make me betray my commander!” he bellowed, rising over her and pinning her beneath him.

It should have scared her, terrified her, made her scream and cry and beg for help. It did none of those things. It sent a jolt of excitement straight to her core and made her gasp, sending heat sliding in her veins.

Her scent exploded with arousal, thick and drugging, making her mind swim and race with inappropriate thoughts. “Bucky,” she purred, arching beneath him in invitation.

He paused, nostrils flaring as he breathed deep. She watched his mouth fall open, his eyes roll back, and the next groan from his throat, though pain-filled, was a familiar one.

“Constance?” he murmured, shaking his head and blinking to clear the last vestiges of his nightmare. “What… what happened? What did I do?”

“Nothing.” She went to reach for him but found her wrists still pinned to the bed. “You had a nightmare.”

He frowned at his hands and snapped them away, then winced when he caught sight of the bruises he’d left on her wrists. “Constance, forgive me,” he murmured, making to leave their nest.

She grabbed a handful of his hair and a wing and yanked him back down beside her, knowing he went willingly or she would never have accomplished such a feat. “You can keep your apology, Bucky. You did nothing wrong.”

“You’re wearing bruises like bracelets, Constance! Ones I caused.”

She used the same handful of hair to tug his head around. Face to face, she growled at him. “I liked it.”

“You what?” he yelped.

“I liked it!” she hissed. “That rough little tumble. You made my omega hum, Barnes. And before you think you scared me, you didn’t. Your nightmare was barely begun, and as soon as you caught my scent, you came out of it.”

“I did?”

He sounded astounded and made her giggle. “You did,” she assured, a trickle of sweat running down her chest.

His nosed along her jaw and back to breathe her in. “Constance,” he moaned. “You smell… incredible.” His tongue swept over her skin.

She shuddered, a second and third bead of sweat joining the first. Heat pooled low in her belly, setting an ache right to her bones. Slick and drenched, her thighs shifted restlessly. When the wave of fire pulsed outward from her womb, she moaned.

“Connie…” Bucky growled, drawing her closer. “Are you… did you just go into heat?” he panted through his mouth, red already taking over his eyes a second time.

“I think…” Another sharp throb burst through her belly. “Yes, but I'm early.”

“It’s the bond being half finished. I have to go right now,” he gasped, trying to untangle them from each other and the bedding. When she clutched at him, he growled at her. “Constance! You are sending me into an early rut. If I don’t leave _right now_ -”

She closed her hand over his mouth. “Stay.”

He dragged her hand away. “Constance?”

“Stay. I want you to finish the bond. Stay, James. Please.”

He stared down at her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Are you sure? Because if I stay… I won’t be able to stop myself, Constance.”

She knew. Already she could see the rut settling in. His eyes were nearly fully red again, the thick muscles of his chest swelling, and the fast pace of his pulse in his throat all signs she'd witnessed before when her father's rut snuck up on him.

She reached for him. “Then, don’t stop. I love you, Bucky. You’re my mate, my alpha. Finish it.”

Joy momentarily knocked him from his rut, sending white rushing back to his eyes. In that instant, she knew she’d made the right choice. He’d never meant to hurt her.  He didn’t trust himself, but he’d shown her nothing but trust since the moment he’d brought her to his room and asked her to bond with him. To stay. To fight.

She had, but now it was time to surrender, to forgive, to love, and to live again. “I’m yours if you want me,” she whispered.

“More than I want my next breath,” he purred and ripped her nightdress straight down the middle.

She gasped and giggled, surprised but not angry, not when he bent his head and took her breast in his mouth. Hot and wet, it sent pleasure winging through her veins and was gone when he pulled away to rise over her, push up to his feet and release the straining ties on his undergarment.

***

They fell to his ankles. Bucky followed, landing on his knees between hers. His hands found her waist, but he could only stare at the stunning omega laid out lush and smelling like heaven before him. She was a treasure, a gift of forgiveness he still wasn’t certain he deserved.

Cream skin with the occasional dot of freckles, perfect breasts with pale pink nipples, and a soft triangle of curls in the same vibrant red as her hair hid where her delicious scent came from. Long, smooth legs, that same pale cream, were a stark contrast to the red bedding.  

She ran her hands down her sides, smile knowing as she discarded her destroyed nightgown.

“Teasing, ‘mega,” he growled, hearing the lowered timbre of his voice. He wrapped his hand around his cock and gave the thick length a long stroke, watching her smile and the dusting of pink rise in her cheeks. "Be sure, Constance. I've just enough control left to leave if you are not."

She tucked her feet up under her, rolled to her knees and knelt with him, unconcerned with her nudity. Beads of sweat were running down the valley between her breasts he desperately wanted to chase with his tongue.

"No hesitation, James." She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Mistakes were made between us, but I would be a blind fool if I believed for one moment more you were not sincere in your apology. You've been… so wonderful. Sweet, caring. Kind. I believe you want me. I believe in us."

His heart thudded in his chest, so heavy and full of emotion. "Constance Stark, you are, without a doubt, the most perfect omega in the world." Bucky sank his fingers into her hair, glad she kept it unbound for bed. He liked touching it, running his fingers through it, enjoying the silky texture when it skimmed over his skin at night.

They'd been inseparable these last two days, and in that time he'd discover what a complete and utter fool he had been.

She was, in short, the missing part of him. Constance filled gaps in his life he hadn't know where there until she stepped with ease into them. The servants adored her, both winged and Landed. His men treated her with the respect one reserved for royalty, and when after her first luncheon with Wilson her wings had returned to her back where they belonged, his people had begun smiling at him again too.

She was the very heart of his weyr, the center of their circle. Constance was happy; therefore, so was everyone else.

Everything he'd feared had come and passed, and she'd managed each with strength and dignity. She was a balm to his soul. The very beat of his heart. The breath in his lungs.

How had he ever thought he could live without her?

Heat flared from her skin and made him shudder. It felt wonderful from inches away, but he collected her to him to let the warmth rage over him. Both gasped at the initial contact.

"You are the finest woman I have ever known," he murmured against her lips, loving the press of tight nipples against his chest.

"And you are a bit boneheaded if it took you so long to realize it."

He laughed and ran his hand over her wing. "I do not doubt it." Then, before heat and madness took them and the beasts of their natures were set free, he brought his forehead to rest against hers. "These past days have been a dream for me. I feel… more whole than I have in a very long time. You have done that for me, darling — only you. I love you. It may have only been a few days, but damned if I don't. You're mine, Constance. My omega. I plan on keeping you. And I plan on beginning the first of our two dozen hatchlings before this rut ends."

She laughed, the sound sweet and soft and enchanting. “Perhaps we should start with one.”

“The first of many,” he purred, rubbing his nose on her shoulder. He could feel the itch of his rut growing, the instincts pressing at him to lay her down and drive into her body over and over. To take, to claim, to ravage and mark the woman growing hotter by the moment in the circle of his arms, but he resisted, afraid of hurting her.

“James,” she whispered, her fingers carding through his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp. “It’s alright. You won’t hurt me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She drew back enough to take his face in her hands. Her smile soft. Her heart in her eyes. “Because. I trust you.”

Something tight in his chest snapped, flooding him with relief and lifting a weight from his shoulders he hadn’t known was there. “How? After what I did?”

She smiled, brilliant and blinding bright. “Well, I am not as boneheaded as you are.”

“Constance!” he huffed.

She laughed and shifted closer, her thighs sliding over his until she settled into his lap, bringing heat and wetness unbearably near his hard cock. “I see you, James Buchanan Barnes. Once I understood better what you’d been through, once you let me in, I could see why you felt the way you did, why you felt the need to push me away. I think, now, you see why that was a stupid idea.”

“Highly foolish,” he agreed, gripping her bottom to bring that lush wetness right to his full cock.

She gasped an excited little noise. “Utterly dumb.”

“Stupid of me, indeed.”

“A right git you were.”

He barked a laugh. “I adore you.”

“As you should,” she quipped, her smile smug. “Perhaps you should show me. All this _talk_ is making me anxious.”

“Oh?” he purred, nipping her bottom lip. “How so?”

“This dragoness is getting tired of talk.” She skimmed her hands down his spine then dragged her nails up, causing Bucky’s muscles to flex in pleasurable reaction. “There was no chase, no challenge. You have simply caught me and now hold me hostage.”

She gave an adorable pout he had to bite a second time. “Must I remind my dragoness of her tender wing?” He stroked his fingers up her back and gently pressed against the sore muscle, humming soothingly when she winced and hissed. “When you’ve healed, if you still desire a chase, I will happily hunt you through the halls. For now, I can prove my worth in other ways.”

Honey eyes glowed with warmth and desire when she arched an intrigued brow. “What ways are those?”

Bucky smirked and lowered his mouth to her throat. She twitched when he slowly pressed his tongue to the hollow at the base and licked up, catching beads of sweat like salt and sin along the way, scraped his elongating fangs over her pulse, and finished with a small suck of the skin over her mate gland.

Her moan was half growl and rumbled like thunder in the room. He answered without conscious thought, a deep vibrato that pulsed out and rattled the windows.

“Gods! I could feel that in my bones,” she sighed, her wings falling open and shifting outward, sliding submissively down her back.

Bucky did it again, holding the tone until his lungs begged for air, enthralled watching Constance arch and writhe in bliss as red trickled into her eyes and fangs indented her lip. His Will wrapped around her and made her moan, head thrown back and body soft.

Then the door into her adjoining suite opened, bringing with it the scent of her maids.

Bucky jerked his head around and snarled, causing the unseen intruders to freeze before quickly leaving, the door shutting hard.

“Poor girls. You’ve likely traumatized them,” Constance snickered.

“No, interruptions,” he growled, feeling much less civilized than a few minutes ago. He lowered her to her back in the center of their nest and fussed with her wings. “Are you comfortable, darling?” She appeared amused but nodded. “Good. We won’t be leaving our nest for some time,” he purred, arching over her, a rumble of desire filling his chest.

She gave a needy little mewl when another wave of heat pulsed through her blood. Fresh beads of sweat broke out on her skin.

Bucky was determined to catch every one and set his mouth to work fulfilling that desire.

By the time he finished, she was a wreck of pleading, begging omega, and he was drunk on her scent, the world now washed in red, and his Will flowed freely over them both. He found her mouth and swept his tongue inside, drowning in bliss he released as enticed moans, drinking in the flavour of her before licking her fangs.

His had ached for three days, wanting nothing more than to find a home in her soft skin. He’d spent the last days in a state a semi-readiness, always half hard. Her scent was a drug, like the warmth of summer drifting into fall, bringing freshness to the sultry heat of lush forests. The nights were the worst when she would sleep in his arms, wrapped in his wings, her body soft and pliant and right _there_ just out of reach.

Slowly going out of his mind was nothing when compared with the torture of not having her.

Breaking from her sweet, soft, plump lips, Bucky took a moment to breathe before he completely lost control. Her gentle touch on his body left him shaken, undeserving of her care after what he’d done. He was determined to prove his love, not simply succumb to the rut and take and take without thought.

He brought his mouth back to her skin, skimming his lips and tongue over her, appreciating every inch, every small dip and elegant arch of her collarbones. Her scent was thick between her breasts, so heady he moaned, lost to the heat rising in his body, lost to the sensation of hers pouring out of her.

The soft mound of her breast gave beneath the gentle press of his fangs. Hard nipples grew flush when he took them in his mouth and teased them with his tongue. Sharp cries of delight and her fingers fisting in his hair made him purr.

His sweet dragoness was enjoying his attention. The thought made his cock throb.

He spent time worshiping the soft peaks and smooth mounds, drifting back and forth between them even as she shifted with restless anticipation and begged with pleading chirps and purrs, tugging at him via the knees clamped to his hips. But Bucky was immovable. 

She smelled like heaven. He needed to know if she tasted the same.

When her nails dug into his shoulders, he growled in pleasure, the sharp pain only evidence of her enjoyment. "Omega," he hummed, kissing her soft stomach, his mind full of images of her round with their hatchling.

"Bucky, alpha, please!" she begged.

It was music to him. Music he never imagined hearing, locked in a rut with his omega writhing through her heat beneath him.

He nipped his teeth into her skin, leaving little love bites and more bruises, knowing now she liked that bit of roughness. Her cries were getting progressively louder as he dropped lower, and when he took her by the knees and spread her open for him, his mouth filled with saliva at the thick scent and glistening wetness coating her core and thighs.

"So wet, 'mega. How beautiful." His wings flared high behind him, tangling in the shears at the foot of their bed. He paused long enough to shake the fabric off, sending it cascading to the floor between them before returning his attention to Constance, unwilling to damage something she put such effort into perfecting.

Her smile was soft, her face flushed and body glowing. "Thank you," she whispered.

"What's important to you is important to me," he murmured, sinking lower so he could press a kiss to her moist thigh. He licked his lips and groaned. How was he to function daily when this nectar waited for him? When drawing it forth would be so much fun?

"We will not be leaving here for many days, darling. I've found a feast I plan to gorge on often," he smirked and swept his tongue up her plush thigh cutting off her reply when she gasped his name instead. He licked every drop of sweet nectar from her flesh, then paid extra attention to the gland throbbing there, pinning her his down when Constance tried to buck up into him.

Chirps and mewl became cries and screams, her voice rising in intensity. When he began to clean her opposite thigh, she wrenched on his hair. “Please! Gods, Bucky! Please! It aches!”

“I know, love,” he soothed, lightly petting her belly and hip, stroking over her hot skin. “Soon, you’ll feel better.”

She warbled out a sound that had all the hair on his body standing up. A call to mate. To claim. To lose himself in her sweet body.

He answered without thought, growled low and deep and placed his mouth on her; right over her dripping core. She screamed with the first sweep of his tongue, her thighs trying to close against the hands holding her open.

“Gods, Bucky!” became a chant as he feasted like a beast, growling and slurping his way through the meal, sucking that sweet bud of nerves between his lips, unrelenting in his exploration until she threw her head back, her hands tight in his hair, and roared like the dragon she was when she came apart for him.

He thrust his tongue deep and felt her ripple around it, moaning at the strength, suddenly desperate to experience those same contractions on another part of his anatomy. She went limp, and Bucky pulled away, to rise over her, his world narrowed down to the woman below him and nothing more.

She lay panting, eyes hooded, body flushed. Her heat had curled the hair around her face and set it clinging to her damp skin, but even as she recovered, she reached for him. “Alpha,” whispered from her lips. Her fingers brushed his mark, tender still, and throbbing now that he was here, so close to finishing what they started.

“‘Mega,” he sighed, lowering his head to nuzzle into her shoulder while his fingers slipped over wet folds. Bucky pressed a finger inside her, stroking gently, careful with her, denying the need pounding at the back of his skull to _take_ and _claim_.

He’d hurt her once. He wasn’t about to do so again. There were days of heat and rut to come when he could let himself go and fall into lust with her, but not this first time.

A second finger made her whimper and gently claw at him. A third had her lips parting on a sharp gasp. Slow thrusts saw her arching and begging, her voice breaking to sob in pleasure when his thumb stroked over her swollen bundle of nerves.

Bucky had meant only to prepare her for the next step, but watching her squirm and plead and ride his hand had him lingering, amazed by her, finding pleasure in watching her come undone. Then red washed eyes snapped open, and she bared her fangs at him.

“Bucky if you do not fuck me soon I’ll-”

She never got to finish her sentence when his free hand snapped up around her throat, gave it a gentle squeeze, and cut her off. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on her jaw, loving how her breath caught, and she trembled with excitement.

“You’ll what, love?” he purred, driving his fingers into her harder, faster until she was bucking into it. “What would you do?”

“I… I don’t know, but I’ll make you pay somehow!”

Her threat would have been more effective if it wasn’t followed by sharp little cries with every plunge of his fingers. Still, he drew his drenched hand away and used the wetness to slick over his cock. Already it felt thicker, heavier, harder than ever, prepared to last as long as her heat did.

The rut was something he was intimately acquainted with. How his body prepared to fight or fuck until it ended. How his muscles swelled with strength. How his stamina grew limitless. More than once he and Steve had beat the hell out of each other to get through the worst of it, but this - he shifted to press his cock against Constance’s tight sheath - would be his first rut with a female.

Bucky tucked his knee up under her thigh, lifting her just a little, tilting her hips to him as he touched her gently, reverently, with gliding hands and soft kisses. She purred a sound of such wanton invitation, he groaned and shifted forward to sink into her slick heat, then stopped to catch his breath when her tightness stole the very air from his lungs.

“Gods save me,” he sighed, his face tucked against her throat. “You’re exquisite.”

“Alpha,” she moaned. Soft hands moved over his back and up the base of his wings.

Heat rolled over him, bringing with it the gentle touch of _omega_. Her lush scent filled with _joy, peace, happy, trust_ , and _desire_ so thick he could taste it on his tongue.

A slow roll of his hips had a silky warble falling from her lips. Another saw them moaning together. She felt like heaven. A glorious, Gods given gift he’d nearly lost, and gave himself over to the moment.

Hands slipped and slid over skin slick with sweat. Mouths joined and parted. Tongues tangled. Fangs nipped into kiss-bruised lips and voices rose to fill the silence. A sudden crack of thunder came but neither noticed, lost in each other, a tangle of limbs as they moved together.

He nuzzled and nipped into her throat, teeth aching as he dropped his wings down, cocooning them in shadows when the day lit up with lightning.

Bucky buried his hands in her hair and kissed her over and over. Never had he felt so good between a woman’s thighs. Never had walls gripped so tight or been so slick. She clung to his back, nails digging in or dragging over his skin, and he found he revelled in it. He loved it more when they drifted down and clenched in his buttocks, seeming to urge him on, drive him deeper.

“James,” she whimpered, baring the long line of her throat. “Please.”

He set his teeth to her, waiting, teasing the skin with his tongue as she grew tighter around him. “You feel so good, Constance my love. Such a perfect omega,” he whispered, letting his lips brush her skin. “You grip me so tightly, darling. I want to make you mine. Let go, sweet Constance.”

He watched it come, watched her body slowly tense, watched her lashes flutter. Her nails dug in, and her breath caught, and when the flush rose up from her chest, when her sheath tightened near the point of pain, he sank his fangs into her flesh. His moan was swallowed by the enormous roar that ripped from her throat; a comical sound to come from such a small person.

But with the burst of her gland over his tongue, the pain in his mark subsided, and the ache in his teeth vanished, but the urgency in his core tripled. His hips gave a hard jerk as he licked at her bite, soothing away any possible sting even as he began to lose himself to the rut.

She purred out a rumble that tumbled with boulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to _more, faster, harder_ by tugging on his hair.

Bucky complied, sitting back to lift her hips and hold her steady as he pounded hard into his new mate. He could see her through the haze of red, hands gripping her hair, mouth open and face contorted with pleasure, twisting back and forth on the pillows. Cries of ecstasy built in volume, making him smirk, wondering if they carried beyond the walls of their room.

It mattered little to him if they did. Let the whole world know the Lord of Winter Hall was an exceptional alpha when it came to pleasing his mate. With the way she roared, no one could doubt it.

Then her heavy-lidded eyes lifted to his. “Alpha,” whimpered from her lips before she rose up with the help of her wings to fall into his lap.

He grunted but adjusted, the fall driving him deeper. She clung to him, her body fevered and arms tight around his neck as she licked and sucked and nuzzled his mark. His cock thickened, making her moan and whimper and plead with little begging whines right against his ear that drove him wild for her. She would have more bruises decorating her pale flesh with how hard he held her, dragging her down, thrusting up, seeking the bliss that would come with filling her full of his seed.

When her teeth dragged over his skin, Bucky’s red world turned white. Then her fangs sank in, and it exploded with lightning. Fire ripped through him, a searing pleasure that sang through every vein, racing to his spine and out through his loins. He yanked hard on her waist, his wings snapped out, and he bellowed a deep roar he _knew_ would echo through the walls of his home.

She was his now. Constance was his.

They sat panting, exhausted, but momentarily sated. Some of the red cleared from Bucky’s vision, enough to truly see the smug smirk on his new mate’s kiss reddened lips. “Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

She didn’t even rise to the teasing, just smiled wider and nodded on his shoulder without opening her eyes.

He chuckled and shifted enough to gently lay her back in their nest before pulling away and sliding off the bed to carefully gather the shears and toss them up over the canopy. He made his way around, aware of her eyes on him as he repeated the action on each side of their nest.

“Thank you,” she murmured, drawing his attention.

“I would have done so earlier if I could have,” he said, taking her in.

Curled like a goddess in the center of the sinful nest, she was a mess of pink and cream flesh dotted with nibbles and small bruises, the mark at her throat red in its newness. Her vibrant hair spread out like a fiery halo, while her wings of smoke and embers surrounded her.

“You’re a gorgeous creature,” he murmured, crawling back in there nest and pressing her knees apart.

She welcomed him with open arms and sighed happily when he pressed his still hard cock back inside her. Again he shifted her wings around, tucking them beneath her and frowning at the broken feather he plucked from the sheets before gathering her to his chest and rolling them to their sides. Face to face, he drew her thigh up over his hip, but remained still, taking a moment to rest before the heat and rut were upon them again.

She stroked his cheek, her smile sweet. “I think you’re beautiful too.”

“Even scarred like this?” he wondered.

“Your scars only add to your story. You are beautiful, James. Inside and out.”

Honey-toned eyes full of love held him in thrall. “I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he whispered, brushing their lips together and clutching her close.

“Such a bonehead,” she teased and made him chuckle.

“I love you, ‘mega.” Her eyes twinkled. Then her wing was curling over them, and feathers were tickling his buttock. He jerked in surprise. She groaned when the action dragged his cock through her slick walls. “You’re such trouble.”

She tightened her leg on his hip and rocked against him. “I love you too, alpha.”

When her wing rose again, he met it with his, letting their feathers slide together in a sensual caress as they slowly began again, succumbing to the heat and the rut, and their love for each other.

***

Sam frowned when the two maids bolted down the stairs toward him. "Martha? Emily? What's wrong?"

"Lord Barnes, he… he _growled_ at us!" Martha cried, shaking and pale-faced.

"He did?" Sam asked.

"All we did was open the door to see to Lady Constance, Sir Wilson," Emily murmured, tears in her eyes. "Did we do something wrong?"

He glanced toward the stairs. "Doubtful, but I shall investigate. Wait here."

Sam headed for the stairs and made his way up them, then hurried down the hall that would take him to the suite Barnes and Constance shared. He was a dozen strides from the door when he jerked to a stop.

The scent was unmistakable. Bucky was in rut.

Concern for Constance had him moving cautiously closer. He didn't know what he would do if Constance were still hesitant, but he would have to do something. Bucky would never forgive himself if he mated her against her will.

Then his ears picked up the quiet moans and delighted cries, and a smirk curled his lips. It appeared the keep would have a new lady when the week was through, for Constance certainly wasn't crying out for the alpha to stop.

When the sweet undertone whispered past his nose, Sam jerked back, spun on his heels, and ran silently down the corridor. He needed to get things situated before someone blundered upon them accidentally a second time.

He leapt from the second floor, letting his wings slow his decent, dropping lightly beside the two Landed females. "Hurry and fetch Mrs. Jones, Emily. Martha, run through the main floor of that wing and see all the servants leave that half of the manner immediately. Was there anyone else about the upper floor?"

"No, sir," Martha shook her head.

"Good girl. Run now, but be quiet as a mouse." He hurried Martha along, then Emily before darting to the front door and letting loose a piercing whistle.

Out of the steady downpour, a figure emerged, running from the gatehouse.

Pinkerton arrived with a flick of pale grey feathers. "Sir Wilson?"

"Hang the red flag," Sam said with a cocky smirk.

"Sir?" Pinky gasp. "Truly?"

"Our Lord and alpha, and his new lady shall be indisposed for at least five days."

Pinky's grin spread to rival Sam's. "The cocky bastard did it."

Sam chuckled, used to Pinky's free way of speaking after having spent many days in France together. "That he did. Perhaps in a month we shall have another announcement to make. Once the flag is hung, ride to Shield Manor. Inform Colonel Rogers of the good news. The Lady is no longer in danger, and Lord Barnes is forgiven."

"Yes, sir!" Pinky crowed and dashed away into the rain, calling for his watch companion with every step.

Laughing softly at the man's excitement, Sam shut the door and turned only to find Mrs. Jones beaming.

"It's true? We've a new mate pair and a possible hatchling to pray for?" she asked, her hands twisting with excitement.

Sam tilted his head. "If the Gods are kind."

"Well, praise be!" She threw up her hands, wings twitching and _happiness_ sweetly scenting the air. "Anyone could see she was perfect for him. His fated mate. It's about bloody time."

"They had a few troubles to work out," Sam grinned, well aware of everyone's opinion in regards to Bucky's folly. "Now, I will see to their meals. No one must venture into that half of the manner for the time being. It's barely begun for he did not notice me, but we will take no chances. A new mate's first heat and with his difficulties? Better safe than set him raging."

"Of course, your right. Hearty meals. No nonsense. Filling without being heavy. She will want for the energy I'm sure," the omega housekeeper muttered to herself as she hurried away.

As he was currently acting the part of majordomo - the last having left after finding he did not fit well in the Winter Hall family, and the previous retired after having served both Lord Barnes; former and current - Sam went to inform the house staff to remain out of the manor's west wing until Lord and Lady Barnes rejoined the household.

Soon, all of Winter Hall would know the Warlord Alpha had caught his Omega.

When the roar bellowed from the second floor, Sam smiled. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more chapter brought to you through Coffee Updates after this one. This update brought to you by @huskiesfan-olicity-wintershock. Thanks for your support! To see what’s coming next, check out Current Coffee Requests on Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings: fluff, smut

* * *

 

Lizzy giggled and snuggled down with Peter as he read aloud from Gulliver's Travels. Over the past few days, she'd been busy making ready the keep for the arrival of the Norweigan princes and their entourage, and hadn’t the time to spend with the young omega as she wished. Even though Steve kept assuring her Thor and Loki would likely travel with only three attendants, she wasn’t so sure. 

Their own monarchy never journeyed from the castle with less than the entire court. These foreign princes couldn’t be that different. 

She’d spent the past three days working with Mrs. Danvish to see every room aired, dusted and cleaned, the rugs were beaten, and windows polished to a shine that could reflect light both inside and out. Lizzy was certain Ross was ready to pull his hair out, but the butler would smile through gritted teeth and do whatever she asked. 

Then there was planning for the ball. Much was already in order, but when she’d been snooping through the attic with Natasha, she’d come across stunning lace table cloths and cut crystal stemware unlike any she’d ever seen. The servants and Ross had spent a day in the dusty attic, opening every trunk and wardrobe, desperately seeking the rest of the collection. 

In the process, she’d found light, airy curtains to add to the windows in the master suite, and a crate with tarnished silver servers and candelabras that once polished would make a beautiful addition to the ballroom tables.  

She was driving them all a little batty, she knew, and when Lizzy turned her attention to the gardens, commandeered a good number of Steven’s men and set them the task of clearing out the section of footpaths between the garden gate and the orangery, she knew the inside servants had breathed a sigh of relief.  

Steve hovered for a while, but Lizzy shooed him off, assuring him she was fine in her role of taskmaster. The gardeners all received a stern talking too, Lizzy voicing her disappointment in the state of the once groomed paths and hedge maze. 

Each had murmured an apology, hat in hand, and promised to do better. 

Lizzy accepted and told them how she liked plants and gardens. She would love to see the stately ones of Shield Manor back to their former glory. It appeared to set a fire under them for they had been working hard ever since. 

Once they’d cut her a path, she’d taken paper and pencil and made notes on the damage done to the orangery. Some of the glass was cracked, but not broken. The fountain in the center was a disgusting mess of sludge, and a few of the wilder plants had taken over. It would be a lot of work, but she wanted at the very least the first section of gardens and the orangery cleaned up before they were to host foreign royalty. 

Prince Thor’s mate might like taking a turn in the gardens with her while Steve took the males hunting. At least Lizzy hoped she would. 

Today, however, the rain had set in, sending everyone scurrying to be undercover. Thunder rolled and cracked in the distance, and Lizzy had taken the nature induced reprieve to spend time curled up with Peter in his nest. 

The boy was getting into the part where Gulliver was in the land of Brobdingnag, inhabited by giants when he stopped and closed the book. “Lizzy?” As they were shoulder to shoulder, propped on pillows, and snuggled in blankets, he had only to turn his head to look at her. 

“Yes, Peter?” She brushed his curls out of his eyes. 

“I hope Constance is okay.”

“I’m sure she is.” They hadn’t had news yet today, but with the rain, they may not hear anything. “You know the last report was positive. I think she and Lord Barnes are getting on well.”

“How can she just… forgive him like that?” 

Lizzy stroked his cheek with her knuckles. “It’s difficult to explain, but when an omega finds their alpha, there is an instant connection, one hard to resist. Even before I smelt Steve, I was drawn to him like no other. Then, once I knew, it took but days for me to fall in love with him. It’s how we’re made, Peter. Given the chance, I’m sure Constance and Lord Barnes will come to the same feelings.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “Do you think… do you think I will have a mate?”

“The Gods are merciful and kind, darling. I’m sure you will.”

“What if I don’t?” he whispered. 

She curled a wing over them both. “Then, you don’t. But you will never be alone. This is your home and your weyr, and we love you.”

He glanced at her, lashes spiky and dark with unshed tears. “I love you too, Lizzy. You’re like the sister I never had. You and Connie.”

“Oh, Peter.” She hugged him to her and rumbled a quiet purr until they dozed off together. 

***

That was how Steve found them, curled together like two puppies in the middle of Peter’s nest with Lizzy’s wing over the boy like a protective mother. 

He didn’t even resist the temptation to crawl in with them. 

As Steve knelt and laid down at Lizzy’s back, he wrapped his arm around her waist and nuzzled into her nape. Her maids had put her hair up, something he knew she wasn’t a fan of, but he loved it when he could put his lips on her skin and smell the warm scent of roses. Her scent was sultry and thick, growing deeper by the day. It made him rumble a purr of appreciation. Soon she’d slide into heat, and he’d follow her into his rut, but not before the ball tomorrow. It would give them time to welcome his friends, spend a few days together, and allow Bucky to get through the worst of his rut before Thor and his people switched keeps. 

Lizzy stirred and hummed in pleasure. “Steven.”

“Elizabeth, my love.” He brushed his lips on her throat. “I have good news.”

“Mm?” 

He nibbled on her ear. “Bucky and Constance have finalized their union.”

She whipped her head around. “Really?”

Steve rubbed his nose, smarting when her cheekbone connected with it. “Yes. We had a rider from Winter Hall. They’ve hung the red flag.”

“Oh!” Her hands flew to her mouth while a sparkle of tears dusted her lashes. “But she’s off her cycle.”

“They were fighting a half finished bond. This does not surprise me. And Sam said she’s happy. She’s forgiven Bucky.”

"Oh, I'm so pleased!" she exclaimed, tension seeming to bleed out of her as _relief_ flooded his nose.

"This does mean they will miss the ball."

"Who cares about that!" Lizzy giggled. "Constance is mated! She's going to be okay!"

Her voice rose in volume until it woke Peter. "Colonel?"

"Barnes and Lady Constance have finished their bond. She is going to be just fine."

Lizzy drew her wing back when Peter popped up. "Can I see her?" 

"In a few days. Winter Hall is under a red flag."

"Oh? Oh!" Peter gasped.

Steve chuckled and tightened his grip when Lizzy also tried to sit up, keeping her where she was so he could keep his nose against the bare skin of her shoulder. 

"It's so exciting!" Lizzy giggled, giving into him and staying still. "All Constance has ever wanted was to find her mate and have her first clutch. I'm so happy for them."

But there was a sour note to the air that had Steve glancing at Peter. "Pete?"

"Clutch?" the boy whispered. "How could he do that? How could he put her in danger like that again so soon!"

"Danger?" Lizzy frowned, reaching out to Peter, but it was too late when the boy leapt from the pillows and blankets to streak out the opening as fast as his wings could carry him. 

A door slammed seconds later, and Steve sighed. "Well, that could have gone better."

"I don't understand what has so upset him? We talked about Constance and Lord Barnes. I thought he was settled on the matter."

Steve sighed and sat up, bringing her with him and into his lap where he sorted her wings out, so they rested to either side of her while he occupied the space between them. "We've said Peter was running with his uncle when we found him, but we never explained about Peter's parents. His mother died birthing him, his father only weeks later from losing her. Ben raised Peter from a hatchling as an unmated beta."

"That poor boy. No wonder he's so frightened."

"When Hope announced Cassie's clutch, Peter didn't come down from Bruce's tower for four days. It took both Bucky and I to assure him Hope was healthy and nothing would happen, but he lost half his feathers during her time thanks to his worrying."

Lizzy leaned her head against his shoulder. "Was Peter's mother sickly?" 

"So he was told. With Constance just over her sickness and now the possibility of a clutch, I can understand his fear. But omega sickness is not the same as being of poor health. With the completion of their bond, she will be back to her normal self."

"Guess that means I should write Aunt Pepper. They will be here for the ball. They deserve to know why Constance won't be attending."

"You are right. Lord Stark may rescind his offer of assistance." Which would not help their war effort in the least. 

"If he knows Constance is happy with her mate, he will get over himself. Aunt Pepper won't let him pout for long."

Steve ducked his head to flick his tongue over her mark. “Would it not be better to tell them in person rather than through a letter? I believe they said they would be arriving early tomorrow as they are bringing the rest of your impressive collection of books with them. If we can have a moment to break the news privately and answer their questions to the best of our abilities, we may be able to soothe some of their anxiety.”

“You’re right, of course. It wouldn’t do to have Uncle fly off and threaten Lord Barnes in the middle of a rut.”

Steve chuckled and drew his fingers up her waist. “It would be a poor idea.”

Everyone with any sense knew not to disturb a keep where a red flag flew. Alphas in rut were rarely rational, hyper territorial, and quick to anger. When an alpha was in rut, a black flag flew, warning people that now was not a good time to visit. If the news was dire, or the need great, one could approach with caution to seek assistance, but when it was a mated pair lost to the heat of their instincts, a red flag hung from the gate telling all who passed to stay away.

“For now, my love,” he purred against her ear, “I was wondering if you would spend a few hours with me?”

“Always! But are you not busy with your correspondence?”

“I’ve finished for the day. I was hoping you would sit for a few sketches?”

A light pink coloured her cheeks. “I would love to, but should we check on Peter first?”

“I am hoping if we leave his nest, he will return here to think. He needs time, my dove. We must give it to him.”

Lizzy sighed but nodded, and Steve helped her from the pile of pillows before leading her out of Peter’s special nest. 

“While I sit for you, will you tell me what it is my uncle is doing for you and your war effort? And what you do as well? Natasha said I needed to ask you when I wondered at the French sending her to kill you. Why attack a Captain when there were likely higher ranked men for her to take on?”

Steve chuckled softly and patted her hand. “I shall answer all your questions, darling, once you are seated for me.” 

He could smell her curious excitement, but she kept those questions to herself, asking instead, “Did Ross put you up to this to keep me out of his hair?”

“He may have given a broad hint that you were worrying yourself for nothing. And I hear the gardens are being restored. How lovely.” He’d always enjoyed the gardens as a boy. Hiding in the hedge maze had been great fun.

"I just want things to be perfect for your guests. I'm your mate and do not want to have a poor showing when our first visitors are so important."

She worried her lip between her teeth and Steve tsked as he paused on the stairwell landing to press Lizzy into the wall and take her mouth for himself. He soothed the red bites with soft kisses and gentle licks of his tongue until the sharp scent of _anxiety_ faded away, and only roses and desire remained.

"Elizabeth, these people are my friends. They've been here before and have no idea I've taken a mate. You will be a lovely surprise, a point of good-natured ribbing for me, and a wonderful addition to the gaiety. Already the others are happier, calmer, more content with you here. You are the center, my darling — the very heart of us. You need only be yourself to make a good showing. Thor cares little for formality, and Loki is a cheeky fellow. He is more inclined to tease than to reprimand. I promise you, all will be well."

"But… what of Thor's mate?"

"She will be happy to see a female of quality after weeks on the road with men," he chuckled. 

Lizzy brightened. "Yes, of course! I'm a ninny."

"Never," he smiled. "It is only nerves. Now, come. While the day is dreary, there is enough light to begin catching your beauty."

A flush darkened her cheeks. "You honour me, Steven."

He stepped back, released her from the wall, and bent to her hand. "I but speak the truth, 'mega." She giggled and followed him up the stairs. 

"I took the liberty of setting your stage, my love," he purred, pushing open the door to reveal a pallet mounded with pillows and covered in a white sheet. Another sat folded on Steve's stool.

Dugan had expressed curiosity, but Steve had only smiled and hung the blue velvet background. 

He shut the door and dropped the bar across, so they would not be interrupted. He turned to Elizabeth, already smelling of sultry, burning roses; her arousal thick and sweet.

"You keep smelling like that, darling, and I will get no work done," he smirked, tugging the tie that held her dress together above her wings to send the sleeves sliding from her shoulders.

"Steven!" she gasped, shooting him a glare as she grabbed for her bodice. "You'll get no work done if you keep on as you are."

He grinned and freed the ribbon at her waist. "But how am I to paint you with your clothes on?"

"Alpha!" she barked. "No!"

He arched a brow as hers drew together. "Have I lost your trust, omega?"

Her face paled. "Of course not."

"Then trust me now. Take off your clothes, Elizabeth," he coaxed, his voice a deep vibrato.

She eyed him for a moment before letting her gown fall to a puddle of pink. Her stays tied in the front, allowing him to watch as she slowly undid the laces. 

Saliva pooled in his mouth, desire rolled in his gut, and his cock thickened. Perhaps this was not the smartest plan he'd ever had.

Her corset landed on her dress, the thin silk of her chemise all that kept her tempting body from him. She slipped the straps down her shoulders. The garment slithered to the ground. 

Steve rumbled a purr as red edged his vision. "No drawers?"

She shrugged. "I had a naughty thought to seduce my mate on his desk after lunch. Pity. You've ruined the surprise."

He growled, low and deadly. "Careful, sweet dove. I'm not opposed to carting you down there and having you over it; servants be damned."

"You wouldn't," she smirked.

"Such confidence, Elizabeth," he purred stepping toward her. 

She lifted her chin. "My territorial alpha does not share."

He caught her chin and lightly brushed his knuckles on her breast. "You are correct." 

Her wings ruffled. "I know." 

She was so smug her tweaked her nipple. "Take your hair down."

"My maids will be so cross with you," she giggled, reaching for the mass. He helped her free her waves and curls until all that ink spilled down her spine and over her chest.

Steve knelt to help her out of her stockings and shoes and groaned at how marvellous she smelled. "Lizzy, sweet, you are driving me to distraction."

"You are the one who insisted on my nudity, my lord."

He looked up at her standing in all her glory, white wings arched and slightly spread, her feathers shimmering softly in the muted light. Her dark hair spilled like ink on the lily white of her skin. A rosy blush coloured her cheeks and the swell of her breasts. Storms danced in her eyes, matching the sky outside the keep. 

“Elizabeth.” He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. 

She smiled, sweet but strong, appearing to know where his mind had wandered. “How would you like me, alpha?”

Flat on her back in the middle of their bed sounded appealing, but Steve stood and took her hand to lead her to the pile of pillows, collecting the extra sheet as they went. 

“Now, darling.” He shook out the sheet and wrapped it loosely beneath her wings, leaving it draped down to the swell of her buttocks. “I want you to sit in the center with your legs curled to the side. Go ahead and get comfortable.” He gave her the tails of the sheet and helped her sit where he wanted her, then he fussed with her hair, the sheet, and her legs until it was all artfully arranged but still appeared natural. “Will you stretch your wings out for me, like a butterfly?”

“Like this?” They lifted, and she stretched them to their full length. 

“Lovely, now let them relax.” She lowered them to the ground, beautifully submissive, allowing the underside of those magnificent feathers to show. “My darling. You look stunning.” He tilted her chin up and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then ran his thumb over the plush bottom one. “I have a gift for you.”

“Steven, you’ve given me more than enough,” Lizzy protested.

“This is more of an inheritance,” he smiled. “Don’t move.” From beneath the pillows near his knee, he pulled a black box and lifted the lid to which Lizzy gasped. “I know they are not considered de rigueur anymore, but they were my mothers. I’d like you to wear them for this.”

“Oh, Steven,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

The gold and amethyst necklace and earrings had fallen out of style, but they had been his mother’s favourite, a gift for their wedding from his father. When he’d gone through her jewelry to find Lizzy’s ring, the case had been in the bottom and brought back so many memories.  

Steve lifted the necklace from within and fastened the jewels around her throat, then gave her the earrings, better equipped to put them in than he. 

“I feel decidedly decadent,” she giggled, running her fingers over the stones. 

“You look radiant. The colour brings out your eyes.”

“You flatter me, Steven,” she blushed.

The demure downcast eyes and pink cheeks where such a contrast to the sly little smile it caused his breath to catch. “Don’t move. Stay just like that.” He fussed with her hair and the sheets again once he stood up, then dashed to the easel waiting, already prepared. 

His coat and waistcoat came off in a flurry of fabric, followed by Dugan’s carefully crafted cravat before he was rolling and shoving at his sleeves. 

“Can I talk while you do this?”

Steve glanced at her. She’d lost the look that had been on her face, but he knew it as if it had been burned on his memory, and nodded. “As long as you stay still.” Quick scratches of charcoal set the curve of her shoulder and spine on the canvas. He’d had this one created specifically for her, made long and narrow to get in the full length of her wings. 

“Tell me what you do for the war effort.”

“My team and I take on special missions and insurgencies into enemy territory when we receive intelligence regarding new weapons or oddities about French forces.”

“So you’re a spy?”

He scratched out the arch of her wings. “We are, but we are also a unique group of individuals. Each has special skills that make doing our jobs easier. Natasha has wings that change colour. Wanda is a female alpha who can make herself seem an omega. Bucky and Clint are ace shots, so precise in their accuracy it is supernatural. Sam can outfly all off us, reach speeds unheard of with his falcon wings. Bruce creates chemical weapons that can knock out entire groups of people, but even before that, he was a brawler.”

“Really? Dr. Banner seems so… calm.”

“He has anger issues,” Steve chuckled. “I once watched him throw an alpha through a wall. When his anger takes over, not even my will is enough to knock him back until he’s burnt himself out. Now, with his wings as they are, few stand to fight when a red-eyed male with bat-like wings comes roaring at them.”

“Hope and Scott?”

“Thieves. Incredibly light-fingered. The two of them could steal the crown jewels. Hope is an exceptional tactician, very smart. Her skills lie in building layouts and languages. Between her and Natasha, they can charm their way into a keep and come back with detailed maps of the layout. Plus Hope keeps Scott from getting too… excited.”

Lizzy giggled. “I noticed his enthusiasm for life.”

“His enthusiasm occasionally comes with clumsy feet,” Steve muttered and made her laugh.

"And Uncle Stark?"

"He's supplying us with his inventions. Many of his weapons give us a leg up on the enemy."

She fell silent, allowing him to catch the curves of her curls and basic shape of her face. 

“What about you?”

“Hm?” He blinked at her, having been focused on the line of her jaw.

“You speak of the others and their specialties but not yourself. What is your talent, Steven?”

He smiled. “My ability to lead. Allegedly, I inspire loyalty,” he chuckled. 

“Not to mention that big, beautiful Will of yours,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes. "Being a Warlord Alpha does not guarantee one a strong Will."

"I have a theory about Will."

"Do you now? Tell me." He finished the outline of her, loving the peek of her feet beneath the sheet — the little tease of them.

"I think one's Will is a direct correlation to how strong they are internally. When your moral values and beliefs are deeply ingrained and virtuous, they lend strength to your physical manifestation of Will."

He paused in his drawing to look at her. "You pose an intriguing idea, darling." 

Her shy but smug smile returned. "Thank you. You're the only one I've told it too."

A shiver ran through her, causing her feathers to quake. "Cold, love?"

"Only a little. It's such a dreary day."

The position she was in also did not allow for her wings to help maintain her warmth against her back, and Steve put down his charcoal. He had a fair start, the painting flowing precisely as he wished. 

Next time he would see the fire lit beforehand, or ask her again to join him on a day the sun shone brightly. He wanted her bathed in sunlight in the painting, the bright light splashing rainbows through her wings and shooting the blue highlights through her hair. It would bring fire to the amethysts at her throat and warmth to her eyes.

Already he could see the finished product, but it was sitting there watching her, scenting her, wanting her, that thickened his cock and had him reaching for a damp rag to remove every speck of charcoal from his fingers before he stood and stripped his shirt over his head. 

"Steven?"

"You're cold, my dove. Let me warm you," he purred.

Lust enriched her scent, but instead of laying back as he expected, she rose from the pillowy softness, her wings low down her spine, and opened her arms, letting the sheet fall.

"Elizabeth." He pounced, picked her up, and took her to the wall between the windows.

"Steven! Someone could see!"

"It is raining buckets outside, and I cannot wait to have you." The buttons on his trousers tore as he shoved them down.

He pushed inside her, knowing by the scent she was more than ready, so wet he slid inside with no resistance and groaned at the feel of tight wet walls.

"Alpha," Lizzy whimpered, wrapping her legs at his waist.

He took her with passion, hard and fast, the thrill of glancing out the window not lost to him. It made him randy and so damn hard. He'd never share her, never allow anyone to see what he currently was, but the implied danger was stimulating. 

"Steven!" she cried, clawing at his back before taking ahold of his wings. 

"Soon, my love, I will have you and take you and love you until it is our clutch people wonder about. We will spend so much time abed, your scent will be indistinguishable from mine." He nipped his teeth into her shoulder, pleasure building like a lit canon in his core, ready to go off at any moment. "My cock will hardly leave your body," he murmured in her ear before licking her mark, lapping at it until she moaned, her thighs squeezing his waist with each roll of his hips. "It will stay so hard for you, my beautiful mate. I will spend days worshiping you. Days buried deep inside you."

"Alpha!" she screamed, coming on his cock. 

Her body clenched around him, making Steve purr. "You make me feel so good, 'mega," he panted, pressing kisses down her throat. "I want to stay here forever." The world washed red and fangs scraped over his lip. 

"Steven," she whimpered, "you keep talking like that, you'll put yourself into rut."

He brushed his mouth over hers. "I can't help it. You're my opiate, my drug of choice. I would happily succumb to you, my Elizabeth." His wings flared wide, and something crashed. Steve didn’t care, unable to tear himself away from the woman moaning into his mouth. 

Something soft brushed over his primaries, and he rumbled approval when he realized it was her wings, curling forward to caress his, lining up feather tip to feather tip. The intimate touch set him crashing headlong into ecstasy, pleasure throbbing through him in intense waves of bliss that saw him slamming his hips forward, hard thrusts that sent Lizzy screaming over with him.

He held still, relishing the tight contracting around his pulsing cock until the sensation became too much and he had to draw away. Steve shook off his pants and stepped out of his shoes as he took her back to the pillows and fell to his knees, only then did her legs release him as they became a pile of sweaty limbs and limp feathers. 

“Wow,” Lizzy smirked. “I am sufficiently warmed.”

Steve chuckled and curled around her, then noticed his easel laying on its side. The canvas lay propped against it, the image of Lizzy undamaged. “Good,” he said, content to leave it there for the time being. “Though it is a cool room. Perhaps I should make sure.” He let his hands wander over all the places he hadn’t touched earlier.

Lizzy arched and purred, tugging him closer by a wing. “Yes, yes you should,” she smiled and kissed him again.

***

It was just after lunch when the gatehouse announced the arrival of a carriage. Lizzy frowned at Steven who also appeared confused as they made their way out of the drawing room where the weyr had gathered for a lazy afternoon.

At the entrance to the grand hall, Ross was directing servants to take coats and hats, and assist with the general chaos when Steve bellowed, "Thor!"

A giant of a man with bright blond hair longer than any she'd seen on a man looked up and grinned broadly. "Steven, my friend!"

Steve trotted down the stairs, Lizzy following slower, slightly awed by the man. "We did not expect you until tomorrow," Steve said, holding out his hand.

Thor bypassed it to grasp his wrist, then yanked her mate forward and set about pounding a fist against Steven's shoulder. "Bah! The weather has been good until we arrived upon your shores. We made time and did not think you would mind our early arrival." He pressed Steven back, his full beard sparkling with raindrops. "We thought to see if Barnes was home, but did not stop when we found they had hung a warning. I did not know Barnes had mated!"

"Only just," Steve grinned. "The both of us found our mates but a few days ago." He shifted and held out his hand for her. "My mate, Lady Elizabeth Rogers, formerly Heartright."

Lizzy hurried forward, glad to have let her maids fuss over her after her morning romp with her mate. Her white dress was embroidered with small roses, making it a little fancier than a simple plain muslin, and her feel less intimidated to meet the royals earlier than she'd planned.

"Your Highness," she said, dropping a low curtsey. "It is a pleasure to meet you." 

He was even bigger up close, broad of chest and shoulders, with wings of white and gold. He gave them a little flick, and a pattern of black spots appeared on the underside of his secondaries. 

"The pleasure is mine," Thor murmured, bowing deeply. "What a beautiful queen you've found, Steven."

Lizzy blushed and slipped her hand into the crook of Steven's elbow. "How kind of you, your Highness."

"None of that now. I would be pleased to have you call me Thor. You are the mate of my good friend. We need no such formality between us." He smiled, and his blue eyes twinkled with merriment. 

She instantly liked him. "I'd be pleased to have you call me Lizzy, Thor."

"Done!" he crowed and turned to grab the man a step behind him, just as tall but slighter in build. His long hair was as black as the clothing he wore, though his eyes were a vibrant blue-green. "My brother Loki."

Lizzy dropped another curtsey. "A pleasure, your Highness."

A slow smile crawled across his lips as he reached for and took her fingers before bowing to place a kiss upon her knuckles. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Lizzy."

"Loki, do not flirt with my mate," Steven growled, his wings spreading and Will beginning to throb.

Lizzy only smiled at the charming rake and took back her hand. "Did you not warn me this one was all mischief, Steven? He's just starting with you."

Loki laughed. "Well done, dearest! Well done. Oh, I do like her, Colonel. You'll have your hands full with this one."

Lizzy giggled. "I must warn you, sir, Mrs. Danvish has been made aware of your devilish ways and has been warned to keep you out of our kitchen."

"You have dashed all my hope for fun, Lady Lizzy! How could you," he pouted, his shiny black wings drooping. 

Like hers, Loki's wings were edged in silver, but while they were black, they didn't appear to absorb the light as Lord Barnes' did. These shone with it, reflecting with blues and greens and even a shimmer of purple. 

They were incredibly lovely, and when he preened proudly at her notice, she couldn't fault him for it. 

"Loki, do not aggravate our host," Thor warned, giving his brother a rather telling look before turning toward the door. "My love," he said, smiling softly at the woman with her back to them, handing her hat to Ross. "Come meet Lady Lizzy."

Lizzy frowned at the pretty brown and black striped wings with their frosted white tips, then gasped when the woman turned around. "Vala?"

"Elly?" she said, just as surprised. 

"Vala!" Lizzy rushed across the hall and into the other woman's arms.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fluff, smut
> 
> This update brought to you by @georgiadean37 . Thanks for your support! To see what’s coming next, check out Current Coffee Requests.

* * *

 

“Vala?” Thor muttered.

“Elly?” Steve echoed.

They exchanged a confused glance before staring at the hugging, squealing women.

"Gods above! Vala what are you doing here?" Lizzy asked, holding the other woman out at arm's length.

"I came with Thor," she smiled at him, "my alpha."

"You're the princess?" Lizzy gasped.

"Forgive me," Thor intruded. "But I'm perplexed. Sif, darling. Why is Lady Lizzy calling you Vala?"

"And where is Elly from?" Steve asked.

"Oh!" Lizzy giggled. "No, you must forgive us. It's been so long."

"Elly and I played together as fledglings," Sif smiled.

"Vala's father was the Norwegian envoy to England. We met at court when I was barely seven and spent an amusing week together. Then Father invited Lord Ulf, Sif's Father, to summer with us before his return to Norway and it was so fun!" Lizzy spun to face Sif, gripping the other woman's hands. "Connie mated Lord Barnes!"

"No! Truly?" Sif gasped.

"Just!" Lizzy giggled.

"That doesn't explain the names, my love," Steve smiled, happy she was so excited after having worried so much over this visit.

"Yes, of course. Forgive me. It was just a young girl's folly. Sif wasn't overly enthusiastic about her name. I was Elizabeth, and then there was Constance, right proper English names, but she was only Sif, so we helped her pick a name she wanted."

Sif smiled shyly at Thor. "I was quite taken with the Valkyrie legends and chose Vala in their honour. Elizabeth went with Elly instead of Lizzy so we could both have a change, while Constance chose Connie though, in truth, she prefers her full name and thought we were both a touch mad."

"We spent weeks whispering secret names, curled up together in one giant nest, our mother's hovering and Constance practically living with us. Oh, Vala!" Lizzy hugged her again. "I never thought I'd see you again. Why did you never write to me?"

"There was an incident on the voyage. The ship and all our belongings sank." Her eyelids lowered as sorrow filled the air. "Mother and Father perished in the storm. I barely made it, managing to hang on to the debris and finally washing up on shore." She lifted her gaze to Thor's and the scent slowly faded. "Thor and Loki found me, and their mother Frigga raised me."

"Oh, Sif," Lizzy whispered. "I am so sorry."

They rested their foreheads together. "I had no way of contacting you. Father wrote the information down for me, and it was lost when they were, but I've never forgotten you, Lizzy."

"I was so sad when I didn't hear from you. I begged Father for the information, but he said we had to wait until I had my first correspondence from you so we could direct my letter correctly."

"And your parents? Lady Amanda and Lord Robert? Are they well?"

Lizzy's scent dropped into sorrow and made Steve's heart ache.

"They were killed in a carriage accident only a few years after you left. The Starks raised me." She perked up a little when she said, "Aunt Pepper and Uncle Stark will be here tomorrow. I'm sure they will be thrilled to see you."

“And I them.” Sif pulled Lizzy in for another hug that had them simply standing together, wings touching, the soft scent of omega sweet on the air even as it tinged with deep sorrow. 

Thor’s hand came down on Steve’s shoulder, a shine of tears in his eyes. “The Gods have blessed us. To find our mates are fledgling friends? Today is a fine day. A fine day indeed.”

“That it is,” Steve agreed. 

“Colonel!” The blond of the group of three warriors swept him a deep bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“Fandral.” Steve gripped the man’s wrist. “Do not pester the maids.”

“Och! You ruin all _my_ fun, Colonel,” he pouted. 

Steve snickered but flared his wings in warning. The beta sighed but bowed his head, his auburn, falcon shaped wings sagging. 

“Volstagg, how fares Lady Daven?” Steve asked. 

“Very well, Colonel. Home with our third daughter,” the big redhead beamed. “She’s as beautiful as her mother.”

“Congratulations!” Steve gripped his wrist. “Last I saw you; you only had the one.”

“It has been a few years since last we were together,” he preened. Another beta, his dark brown wings were shaped like that of a hawk, striped with lighter browns. 

“Lady Daven was pleased to be rid of you," Hogun teased, though a smile barely quirked his lips. Black and gold, the beta's wings were tightly held to his spine. 

Steve had once believed it to be a defensive posture, but after getting to know the stoic Hogun learned it was simply the man's way. Like Jarvis and his preference for well-mannered feathers.

"And you, Hogun? Was your mate eager to see you out the door?" Steve chuckled.

"My serene lotus does enjoy the calm that comes with my departure." He smiled a slightly wider grin. "Thus makes my return all the sweeter."

Thor laughed and pounded his fist on Hogun's shoulder. "Such is the truth! Though I could not bear to be parted from mine. Not now."

He beamed at Sif, and she smiled shyly back, a hand falling to her abdomen. 

Every male not of her weyr took a slow step away from the woman carrying a royal clutch.

"Thor…" Steve was shocked that he would travel such a distance with her in her condition. 

"Fear not, Colonel," Sif smiled. "I knew of the challenges before we embarked on our voyage, but I have found the trip… delightful. The clutch has mellowed my temper."

"Thank the Gods for that," Loki muttered.

Sif flicked him with a wing tip. "Behave, brother."

He scoffed but offered her his arm. "Seeing as how my brother has not insisted you rest, I shall do so in his stead. Lady Lizzy, if you be so kind as to show us to their suite?"

"Of course!" Lizzy's eyes were brimming with tears and _joy_ scented the air. "Sif, how wonderful!"

"I'm so happy I convinced Thor to let me come," the lovely brunette turned weepy and clung to Lizzy's hand. "Forgive me for not meeting the rest of you, but I find I am in need of a rest," she said, acknowledging the others waiting to make her acquaintance.

"Of course, your Highness," Natasha smiled, dropping a curtsey. "We are happy to wait until tea time."

Sif gave a regal nod before she and Loki followed Lizzy, Ross a step behind, barking orders to maids and lads alike to move the princess's things to the gold suite and show the men to their rooms.

As expected, Thor travelled with but his standard companions, far from the entourage of the English courts.

Once Elizabeth and her group were away, Steve motioned for Thor to follow him into the closest parlour where he poured a liberal glass of spirits and held it out. "To your impending fatherhood."

"Skol!" Thor saluted him and downed the liquor.

"You could have postponed. I would have understood," Steve murmured.

"Bah," Thor huffed. "She went through her heat a few weeks before our departure. At the time, we thought it didn't take. We were two days out of port when her scent changed, though I should have suspected earlier. As Loki said, she had gotten quite mellow. Her desire to fight and prove she was as strong as any alpha vanished." 

"And you didn't think to go back?" 

"She wouldn't let us. The sea air and voyage soothed her as did the flight. It wasn't until we had to confine her to the carriage when the weather changed that she began to feel poorly."

"Well, Elizabeth will cheer her, and likely have something to help with the nausea. She's a talented healer, my omega," Steve said proudly.

"In truth?" Thor asked, drinking the second glass much slower.

"Mm. She healed my leg after being shot in France, and I watched her perform surgery on a young Landed boy when he was impaled with an axe." His wings arched and chest puffed just thinking about her brilliance.

Thor chuckled and shook his head. "And here we stand. Two mated old Warlord alphas. It's about time."

"Three with Barnes and his Miss Stark."

"What a game the fates play with us, my friend, to find our mates are as close to nestmates as omegas can be with being born of the same clutch."

"Incredible," Steve agreed. "Our werys are woven even tighter together. It is good."

"It is good," Thor agreed. "Father has asked me to establish a household here, one to help strengthen ties between England and home. Should the war with France last any longer, he is willing to offer aid…"

"But?" Steve prompted.

"He wants Loki mated to an English Lady."

Steve flinched. "I'm certain your brother loves that idea."

"At this stage, he is willing to expand his search parameters. He has visited every court in and adjoining our lands. None have proven fruitful to finding his mate." Thor's brows drew together, and he sighed as he sank into a chair. "The mask of joviality he wears is beginning to crack. It is not healthy for a Warlord alpha to go so long without finding any female suitable."

"Not one?" Steve asked surprised. "Surely there is some female whose scent piqued his interest?"

Thor shook his head. "Not one. He has a very powerful nose as you well know. I think only his fated mate will do."

"Then let us hope one of the Ton will do it for him. The Prince Regent is aware of my ties to your weyr and has been making subtle inquiries, but I put off telling him you would be here, knowing the chaos that would descend upon my household if he were informed."

"Tis alright, Steven. I would rather spend a pleasant evening with your weyr tonight, and a fun night at the ball tomorrow dancing with my mate. Pandering to England's Prince is lower on my list of priorities."

"I see your skills of diplomacy are as honed as ever," Steve teased.

He waved a dismissive hand. "Mock me if you wish, it is only that I know I am with my friend that allows me to speak so freely."

"And freely you can. We are family, weyrs united. Winter, Shield, and Asgard." As Steve could see and feel the anxiousness growing in Thor, he rose and motioned for the man to follow him. "Come. I will show you to your room so you may check on Lady Sif."

"Ha! A newly mated alpha and already you see the signs on others." He patted Steve's back. "After her rest, I would hear the tale of your chase and capture of the lovely Elizabeth. And that of Barnes."

"And it is a tale. Also, our Wanda has found her mate." 

"Three so close together? Gods above and below! They bless us mightily indeed."

Steve laughed along with Thor's joy, the blond's smile as big as Steve had ever seen it. He led the way quickly up the stairs into the guest wing, opposite to that he shared with Elizabeth, and down the corridor where a maid was just bustling through the door with a tea service as Mrs. Danvish fussed and fluttered, seeing to Sif's comfort.

A low rumble rippled through the room, Thor's call like thunderclouds rolling and silenced the noise. "Please excuse us. My lady needs to rest. Any further unpacking can wait. Brother." He nodded to Loki as he crossed the room.

Steve could see how Loki stood guard over Sif, his affection for the woman clear. Then he focused on Lizzy, blushing as Thor bent to her lifted hand.

"Lady Lizzy. I look forward to getting to know you and hearing tales of my darling Sif's youth."

"Thor, stop," Sif huffed, but her eyes twinkled with laughter.

"I'm afraid if I tell stories of my dear Sif, she will return the favour, so perhaps not, my lord," Lizzy giggled.

"Well, now I must insist," Steve chuckled from the doorway, shifting his wing out of the exiting servant's way and nodding his thanks to Ross as the butler hurried Mrs. Danvish out ahead of him. 

"You would," Lizzy huffed.

Steve smiled and held out his hand. "Come, my dove. Your friend will not vanish if we leave her to rest. I promise."

Lizzy bent and pressed her cheek to Sif's, then dropped a low curtsey to Thor and Loki. "Until later, my lords."

"Lady Lizzy," they smiled and settled around Sif.

Lizzy hurried toward him and pulled the door shut behind her, then pressed a hand to her mouth before rushing down the hall, the sharp scent of _distress_ bleeding out of her.

"Elizabeth!" Steve cried, racing after her. 

She ducked down a corridor that took them around the grand hall and back into their wing of the house before she stumbled to a stop and nearly fell, her wings flaring out to stop her and giving him an opening to slide between them and catch her by the waist. 

“Elizabeth, love, whatever is the matter?” he asked, curling his arm around her when she sought to wiggle away. “I thought you were happy to see your friend.”

“I am!” she sobbed. 

“Then why are you crying?” he chuckled, not understanding. 

“I was so angry with her!” she whimpered, her legs shaking. 

Steve slowly released her, sliding around her wing to scoop her off her feet and stride down the hall where he shoved open the door to their room and took her to the seat before the fire. Once they were comfortably settled with her wrapped in the safety of his wings, Steve rumbled a quiet purr and rubbed slow circles over her back. “Alright, Elizabeth. Why were you angry with her?”

Silent tears coursed her face. “I loved her like a nestmate, and when she never wrote, I was so angry. I thought she’d had a laugh at us and left us. It hurt so much never to hear from her again. Now to find out… Lord Ulf… Lady Sonja… all that anger and Sif was mourning her parents? I feel so bad, Steven!”

“Oh, Lizzy,” he sighed, finding her anguish over the situation a little silly. Thankfully, he wasn’t foolish enough to say so. “Do not dwell on what was, omega. Be grateful for what is. Sif is back in your life, happy, mated, expecting their first clutch. Celebrate the now and let yesterday go.” 

She looked up at him with her tear stained face. “I hated her for so long. Then I was just resigned. Seeing her brought back such a rush of happiness. I missed her. To think she’d simply forgotten me was so painful.”

“Of course it was, but now you know the truth and can return to being fast friends. Lady Sif appears to have missed you just as much.” He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “Let the guilt go, darling. It is false guilt and will only weigh down your heart.”

She nodded and closed her eyes before laying her head on his shoulder. “It was such a shock. Then I remember all the anger I had locked away, and I just felt sick.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “No more of that. These are happy times. Our friends are with us, and Thor has expressed the desire to establish a home here. It sounds as if you will see Lady Sif much more often.”

“That would be wonderful,” she sighed, nudging her nose along his jaw. 

“Hm, Elizabeth,” he purred. 

“It’s after luncheon, Steven,” she smiled against his skin. 

“But I’m not in my office, ‘mega.”

She dragged her teeth along the edge of his cravat. “I’m still not wearing any under things.”

He barked a laugh and helped her wiggle around in his lap. “Well, if you’re intent on having your way, darling, who am I to stop you.”

She giggled and began pulling at his clothes. “Good answer, alpha. Very good.”

***

Wanda watched the rain fall, aware of Jarvis hovering inches behind her. “That was unexpected.”

“It was, though I vaguely remember Lord Stark speaking highly of a Lord Ulf. I did not know they had perished at sea.”

“Hm. And the news about Constance is good, da?” she smiled when his hands landed on her hips. 

“Excellent, though Lord Stark may still seek my resignation when he finds I let her go on her own.”

Wanda slowly guided his hands farther around her, encouraging them to wander where they would. He was still very proper, her English, but she was gradually drawing the strong beta out of him. As they were alone, sequestered in her private sitting room within the main house, she knew no one would walk in on them. 

“If he does, he is fool,” she purred, tilting her head to the side. “You did what was best for Constance. She lives. She is mated. She is happy. That is what counts.” The drag of his fangs over her throat made her smile and sigh in pleasure. 

“Are you attempting to start something, my sweet alpha?” he asked, amusement in his voice. 

“And if I were? What would you do about it, mate?”

He pushed her up against the cold glass. “Whatever I damn well please,” growled from him, low and soft as he dragged the back of her skirt up.

“Da, Vis,” she sighed. 

His hands were hot and hard, but soothing and gentle, touching, stroking, testing, pulling sweet chirps and little rumbles from her in anticipation. 

“Is this what you needed, my fire dragon? You could have asked,” he groaned as he thrust through slick walls to bury himself deep. 

Wanda moaned, her head falling back on his shoulder. “You would be all of the shock if I said I want to fuck you against wall,” she whimpered, losing her hold on her English with the first few strokes. 

His hot breath washed over her ear. “Technically, I’m fucking you against the window.”

“Da,” she moaned again only to have his hand close over her mouth. 

“Shh, alpha. You’ll get us caught in the act,” he whispered, running his teeth over her ear. 

She didn’t care, too focused on rolling her hips back, riding the thick rod until the coil tightening in her core finally broke. His hands curled around her wingbeds, drawing her back and down with every one of his forward thrusts, then his teeth closed on her nape, and Wanda saw stars. 

She wondered in passing if this was how omegas felt, strung out, full of pleasure, soft and pliant, submissive beneath the teeth of their mate. If it was, it was a glorious feeling. 

“Vis,” she whimpered. 

His teeth closed a little tighter, and Wanda’s wings dropped as her body began to pulse in time with his thrusts, roll together and fill with ecstasy. 

A heady purr sent vibrations shaking her spine until they coalesced in her center and shot outward as she came undone with a loud cry, her nails digging into the windowsill. He snarled against her skin and pulsed in time with the squeezing of her walls, filling her with warmth as her legs shook. 

He pulled away, licking her nape. As Wanda could smell blood, she wondered if he’d gotten a little overzealous, but didn’t mind. Her people were of a passionate nature, be that fighting or fucking. Blood during mating was inevitable. He let her skirt fall, and she turned to smile at him before taking his hand and leading him to the wide couch before the fire. 

It was backless and made for excellent napping, allowing them to snuggle together, his wing laying over them both. 

“If your Lord Stark is foolish enough to let you go, you always have a home here. I would like you to be here.” 

He sighed. “I know, but he is my alpha. I do not know what I would do here.”

She smiled and snuggled closer. “You will find your way. As we all have.”

“I suppose I will. As long as you are with me.”

“Da,” she grinned. “Always.”

***

Natasha was on her way to speak with Ross, make sure the three warriors were well settled, and the female servants were informed about Fandral’s roguish ways, when banging at the door had her sliding her hand into the opening of her skirt and palming the dagger tied to her thigh. 

She gave a nod to Joshua, the Landed in charge of answering the door that day and moved to intercept him when the door flew open and sent the boy sprawling back into her. 

“Where is he?” bellowed the male coming through the opening, wings dripping water and eyes red.

Natasha helped Joshua to his feet and murmured, “Barton is in the green room. Get him.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He raced off, his scent showing how happy he was to be away from the angry beta at the door. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, sir, as I am disinclined to have a polite conversation with a man barging into my home.” He glared her down, his wings rising, seeking to intimidate her as he lashed out with a laughable attempt of Will. 

Nat snapped her brown wings out, high and wide, and slammed him with a slap of her Will, sending the man reeling. Beta she may be, but she was beta to one of the most powerful Warlord alphas in existence. Her strength was nothing to laugh at. 

“Now, you will explain what you are doing storming uninvited into this home before I have you thrown out on your ass,” she stated, her chin high and face cold. 

“I am William Martin. I must see the Earl at once! My daughter’s life depends on it!”

“And why is that?” she asked, growing angrier by the moment. If Miss Martin had done what Natasha thought she had, the redheaded beta was going to need a bigger knife.

“She’s sick! So very sick! She needs him,” Martin suddenly broke down into tears. “She says she’ll die because he rejected her!”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Natasha arched a brow at her mate, the man standing bow in hand and arrow notched, glaring at the beta now weeping openly in the doorway. “It appears we will be paying Miss Martin another visit.”

“Might I join you? It sounds like you are about to have a grand bit of fun.” 

Natasha looked up to the second floor where Loki was lounging against a pillar and smiled. “If the Prince so wishes.”

He stepped from the second floor and swept down, his wings a shining black cape to slow his descent. “I do so wish, Natalia, darling.”

“Barton, let’s go. Martin needs an explanation of just what his daughter has been up to, and Miss Martin needs a lesson in doing as she’s told.” She headed for the door with long strides, allowing Joshua to help her into the cape she’d worn to cross the bailey that morning. 

“I insist on speaking with the Earl!” Martin demanded, pulling himself together. 

 “Oh, I do not think that will be necessary. He is quite occupied with his lovely new mate,” Loki grinned, evidently putting a few things together. 

“That’s not possible!” Martin barked. 

“Are you calling me a liar, sir?” Soft and deadly, Loki’s Will began to sing, rising like a whisper of wind only to become a gale force knocking the man back step by step. “Are you offering insult to the second born son of King Odin?”

Martin visibly paled. “No?”

Every inch of Loki relaxed. “Excellent! Now, let us be off.” He shoved Martin into the carriage waiting at the foot of the steps. 

“I forgot how much I like him,” Clint snickered. 

“He has his moments,” Natasha agreed. 

“Are we telling the Colonel about this?” he asked, shooting her a look. 

“Not until it’s over. This is not the time to disrupt any of them. We’ve three Warlord alphas in close proximity. One unmated, one about to go into rut, and one with a pregnant mate. Not to mention the one down the road already in rut. The four of them begin feeding off each other’s rage; they could tear Martin and his daughter apart with very little incentive.”

Clint shivered, and it had nothing to do with the rain. “Let’s go with after. Or not at all.”

“Either is good,” Natasha snickered and climbed in the carriage where she sat next to Loki, allowing her mate to take the seat beside Martin. “Now, sir. Let me explain to you _exactly_ what your daughter has been up to, and when I’m through, pray to the Gods the Earl never finds out what she is attempting now.” 

Or Steve may just follow through with his threat and kill Miss Martin where she stands.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: fluff, drama
> 
> This update brought to you by a lovely anon and is the first of two updates thanks to Coffee Updates. Thanks for your support, hun!

* * *

 

By the time Natasha finished her explanation of all this _Miss Martin_ had been attempting, Loki felt nothing but contempt for the woman and pity for the father whose face changed shades several times throughout the recitation. Clearly, the man had no concept of how to keep a leash on his foolish omega child.

As the issue was considered a weyr concern, Natasha assured William Martin his daughter’s disgrace was not public gossip. Or had not been. Whatever she’d said or done in the village these last few days was another story. 

If, as Natasha suspected, Miss Regina Martin had spent the last few days spreading her sob story throughout the village, well, there wasn’t anything to be done about that. Miss Martin would be humiliated, her reputation in tatters, but perhaps that was what the omega deserved. 

Such reckless behaviour should not be rewarded by secrecy. He said as much aloud and continued to say Martin was fortunate his daughter’s obsession was with an honourable man like the Colonel. Another alpha might not have been so… kind. 

Arriving at the inn, Loki alighted from the carriage after Natasha, the woman handed down from within by her mate, with Martin hot on his feathers. 

The rain had not let up, leaving a gloomy, dreary day to match the storm cloud mood of the man stalking into the inn. 

Loki followed with a lighter step, the entire endeavour right up his alley. They didn't call him Lord of Mischief in his court for nothing. He liked a good scandal and knew all the best gossip. If he felt merciful, he squashed the occasional rumour he considered too outlandish, cruel, or damaging, and started a few when some young swain irritated him.

But this, ooh, this was fresh fodder, and on his first day. He was quite looking forward to it. 

He would back Shield Manor, of course. The werys were connected through the omegas, three strong and made stronger through the bonds of friendship. Plus, he had met Lady Lizzy. A blind man could see the fates had paired the two. What this _female_ was attempting would be for naught.

Loki gave his wings a shake and a flick, removing what little water had collected between the carriage and the covered doorway. He strode inside to witness the fun, and almost stumbled to a stop. He inhaled deeply, catching a multitude of scents, but one stood out.

One of apples and ginger, sweet and tart. It grabbed him by the nose, held him in thrall, and only let go when a low rumble escaped him. 

_Mine._

The Warlord alpha stood shocked in the doorway. Here? Now? The one that would be his was in this place? 

He had a heart-stopping moment of concern that it would be the Martin female, but no. There was no trace of that scent on Martin himself who had visited his hatchling prior to coming to the weyr, and when he sniffed again, he found the scent was older, layered beneath others as if she'd been there for luncheon and moved on.

"Prince?" Barton murmured, drawing him from his stupor.

"She was here."

His hazel eyes widened. "Yours?"

Loki nodded, moving further into the dining area. "I can smell her, but the scent is from earlier today."

Natasha smiled and patted his arm. "Let us deal with this, and then we'll help you hunt for her."

He shook his head, shedding water droplets from his hair. "I should go now. What if she was only passing through? I must follow-"

Natasha held up her hand and turned to the innkeeper. "Have any chartered coaches come or gone today? Any new faces?"

"No, ma'am. Just Master Martin for his daughter."

"There." Natasha soothingly stroked his arm. "She either lives here or is in town shopping and lives near here. We'll find her, Loki. I swear."

Reluctantly, Loki agreed. He didn't want to wait, but if he did find her, he would like a little more information about her before accosting her on the street corner. 

"Lead the way, Martin," Natasha commanded, shooing the man toward the stairs.

"We'll discuss settling the bill when you return," the innkeeper quipped.

Loki wondered just how big that bill was, but it was a fleeting thought as his mind was full of _her_ scent. What would she be like? Look like? Would she be happy with his horde? Dear Gods! How was he to transfer his hoard to this land? And what kind of woman was she to have him hoarding _that_?

He shook his head, clearing what he could, though the red edging his vision did not disperse. Then he caught the scent of the omega down the hall and wrinkled his nose in disgust. What was that foul odour?

Natasha lifted her handkerchief to her nose, cleared her throat, and waved Marin onward. When she looked back at him, her eyes were watering. “If you’d prefer to stay out here…” she offered.

Loki waved a dismissive hand and pulled a perfumed handkerchief from his pocket. “Lead on, fair lady.” 

Of course, when the door opened, they all gagged. 

“Whatever is that stench?” Barton gasped, but it required no response as incense thick and sickly sweet wafted in little billowing clouds down the hall.

Natasha flowed like water into the room, Martin a step behind, only for a shriek to come from within. 

“What are you doing here?” cried an accusatory voice.

Loki leaned in the doorway; a physical barrier should anyone try to leave and took in the darkened room. The curtains were drawn, foul incense burning, the scent of a sickroom without the underlying smell of illness. In the bed lay a woman, an omega, with the bedding gathered to her chest, and mousy brown hair, thin and thready, hanging limply on her shoulders. Everything about her screamed _ordinary_. 

A Landed female in governess clothing sat across the room. When she lifted her chin, she dared to meet his eyes, and Loki arched a brow. Not many Landed could challenge a Warlord alpha in such a way, but she showed guts doing so. Then she rose to her feet, a valise clutched in her hand. “Master Martin, consider this my notice. I would rather take my chances on the street than work for your daughter one moment longer.”

“Victoria!” Regina gasped, evidently shocked by her departure. 

The woman lifted her chin. “You are a most disagreeable female. I would not wish your company on any Landed. You put not only yourself in danger, but me as well with this foolish venture.” She shifted her attention to Martin. “I shall write to you where to send the last of my wages and belongings. Good day, Master Martin.”

Martin’s countenance took on a thunderous appearance, but a shift by Loki in the doorway had him keeping his tongue. 

He stepped back out into the hall when Victoria approached him. “You did well, darling,” he murmured, not one to think Landeds beneath those with wings. She tilted her head, but he could smell the worry on her. “Will he pay you?” Loki asked. 

“I do not know. But I’ve left my position, and now I will have no references for another. I have very little money and no prospects.” She ducked her head. “Forgive me, my lord. You do not need to hear my worries.”

“It’s your Highness, actually.” He chuckled when her head whipped up. “And I pride myself on knowing good people when I see them. My brother and I will be establishing a weyr here. My sister carries their first clutch. I believe you could be a welcome addition to our house. Are you trained as a lady’s maid?”

Victoria stared at him, her mouth agape before nodding. “I… I am, your Highness. I was given to Miss Martin as her governess some years ago, and have been acting in the double capacity as her companion since.” 

“And your wages?”

“Fifteen pounds a year and two new uniforms,” she said softly. 

Loki tsked. “Oh, darling. We can do better than that.” He pulled his billfold from his pocket and removed a ten-pound note. “Consider this compensation for what you’ve been through. Hire a room, purchase yourself a new set of clothing, and have a carriage return you to Shield Manor tomorrow after breakfast. You may interview with my sister then, and if for some reason she is disagreeable to your company, I will pay you another twenty pounds for your time, give you a glowing reference, and see you find employment elsewhere.” 

Victoria’s shock was palpable. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Loki murmured. “I can.” She did not need to know he felt pity for her after dealing with Miss Martin for what was likely years. He could change her circumstance, offer her a better life, and it would cost him nothing but a pittance of pocket change. 

“Thank you, your Highness,” she said, taking the money and dropping a low curtsey. “I will arrive promptly after the breakfast hour.”

“Excellent. I will inform my dear Sif of your coming.” He dismissed her with a nod and turned his attention back to the room, sliding a wing out of the way when she made to pass him down the hall. 

“What were you thinking?” Martin was nattering on, continuing to berate his daughter. 

“He’s mine! I want him! I am sick with love for him!” she cried, sobbing into the sheets. 

“You are a foolish omega! I have spoiled you rotten, but no more. You will get yourself out of that bed and pack your things. We leave now. You’ve embarrassed me enough for a lifetime!”

“No!” Regina whined. “I won’t go! Steven is mine!”

Natasha snarled something in Russian that wasn’t fit to be repeated in English and launched herself across the room to land astride Miss Martin. “Listen well, you little fool!” As Natasha’s hand was closed firmly around her throat, listening was all Regina could do. “How dare you make light of omega sickness! A dear friend of mine nearly died this week because of it. It is not a farce or a game you can play at. It is life or death! My alpha warned you what would happen if you made trouble, and now you have been too _stupid_ to heed that warning. Be thankful it is me who intercepted your father and not the Colonel, or I assure you, you would be nothing more than a cooling corpse right now!”

“Now, see here-” Martin tried to come to her defence only for Barton to slide over and raise a crossbow from his hip. 

“I wouldn’t,” Barton growled. “We don’t want an incident, but this is our town, our land, our weyr. Killing her and you would be well within our rights if you persist in escalating this incident.”

Martin seethed but remained where he was. 

“I am going to make this very simple for you, omega,” Natasha purred, a knife Loki never saw her reach for now stroking Regina’s cheek. “You can swear on your life you will leave this village in the next twenty minutes, return to Leeds, and never contact us again, or I can relieve you of every ounce of blood in your body right now.” She released Regina enough to have her answer.

"But he's _mine_ ," the woman whined.

"Wrong answer," Natasha snarled, her hand drawn back as if she would plunge it into the woman's heart.

"Wait!" Regina cried.

Natasha hesitated.

Her chin quivered. "I'll go." 

"And never return?"

"And never return," she sobbed.

"And never contact the Colonel or his new mate again?" Regina cried but nodded. "Say it!"

"I promise never to contact them again!" she screamed.

"Witnessed," Loki purred, sending a wave of alpha _Will_ rushing through the room. "Should she approach the Colonel or his lovely new mate, the werys of Asgard, Shield, and Winter will ruin you and kill her. Am I understood, Martin?" Loki kept his eyes on the man, pouring more and more power into his _Will_ until Martin dropped to a knee in submission. 

"Understood," he growled.

Loki let him go. "The clock is ticking. Get your wayward omega under control, Martin before she ruins you both."

Natasha flapped her wings and lifted from Miss Martin to land before her father. "I will be checking with the innkeeper. Pay what she owes in our village, or you will see me again."

"Beta bitch," Martin growled. 

Natasha didn't dignify his statement with an answer, but when Loki stepped back, allowing her to exit past him, the sound of flesh meeting bone came from inside. 

"That is my lady you speak to, Martin. Watch your mouth," Baron snarled.

The angry beta left the room with long strides and slammed the door closed behind him. "Asshole."

"Indeed," Loki murmured. "Can we? I fear my mate gets farther away every passing moment." He hadn't been this excited in years, to the point he wanted to fidget and bounce in an unbecoming manner.

Natasha linked her arm through Loki's. "We will begin. I'll leave Barton to check in with the innkeeper. He needs the chance to cool off."

As the Hawk was still grumbling and stomping, Loki agreed with her. They arrived at the main floor, and Loki froze. 

She was back! The scent of her stronger than ever, and he turned into the dining room striding past the innkeeper's desk. 

"Loki?" Natasha murmured.

"There," he whispered, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. 

Standing beside a table set for tea, she smiled down at a pair of gloves. "Found you little rascals."

His heart soared. What a melodious voice. Now it made so much sense. Stunning wings of white were speckled with black, great curved wings of a Snowy Owl. Even her hair was white as new snow, a most unusual colour. Dressed in deep green, she was a sight to behold, slender, but strong, standing before the windows swathed in a hood of dark smoky grey with her hair a wild mess around her face.

"Oh, well." 

He glanced down at Natasha. "What?"

She smiled - a most devious one to be sure - and wound her way between the tables. "You will see. Come. I'll introduce you."

Loki followed happily, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Miss Evangeline."

She turned, her eyes green like the sea. "Madame Natasha! What a pleasant surprise."

The two women exchanged curtseys before Natasha glanced at him. "I had some… business to attend to today. And you?"

"A meeting with my solicitor that wouldn't be put off, but my gloves were left behind, slipping most unbecomingly from my pocket." She shot a glance Loki's direction, but her face and scent gave nothing away.

"Miss Evangeline Walsh, this is his Highness Loki Odinson, second-born prince of Norway. He and his brother are who we are hosting the ball for tomorrow night. I seem to recall you declined our invitation."

"You did?" Loki gasped softly as he bowed to her. "Pity. I quite looked forward to seeing you there, Miss Walsh and getting to know you better."

Fury filled her face. "Because as I am omega that is all I'm good for, is it not? A plaything to be used to entertain a mighty warlord alpha until he grows bored. Thank you, but no. I have better things to do with my time than dance to your or any other alpha's tune." 

He should have been insulted by her assumptions, but instead, he was captivated by her spirit. Oh, he liked her already, his hissing dragon. "I'm afraid you have me mistaken for an alpha with very little sense. I am not so poorly informed as to assume any such thing. Why my own dear sister would soundly box my ears if I ever presumed to think she was there only to entertain my brother."

Natasha slipped out of the way, and Loki moved into the heady scent of apples and ginger. 

She lifted her chin. "Your words, sir mean very little to me as I know you less than I know a stone in the road."

He took her words as a challenge, whether she meant them that way or not. "I am Loki, second son of King Odin. Brother to Thor whose mate is my beloved sister Sif. I'm called the Lord of Mischief in my court for I enjoy a good prank. My favourite things are duelling daggers and flying when the winds are high. I love my mother with every ounce of my heart and miss her terribly even though we have only been away from Norway for a few weeks. But, soon I will be establishing a home here with my brother, an extension of the Asgard weyr, and am looking to make friends who may take pity on a lowly foreign prince and come to call?"

A small twitch curled her lips. "My you are silver-tongued."

"I have a great capacity for words," Loki murmured. 

Her lips twitched a little more. "Be that as it may, I've only just finished chasing off my last batch of suitors. Your company, though amusing, isn't wanted. I'm an independent omega, free of male censure, and plan to remain that way. Good day to you, sir."

She made to sweep past him, but Loki unfurled a wing. "Please, lady. The last thing I'd ever want to do is censure such a magnificent dragoness. Your quick tongue and substantial mind are as wonderful as your beautiful wings. Tell me, lady, have you a love of birds?"

She took a step back and knocked into the table. "How could you possibly know-" she gasped and recoiled further. "No."

"Evangeline," Loki purred, the sound rumbling through him, "is a beautiful name."

Her eyes narrowed and flashed a warning. "I do not want a mate."

He didn't touch her but moved until his body was warming hers, his wings wide to offer some privacy. "How could you be so certain when you refuse to get to know me?"

"Males just get in the way," she whispered.

"In the way of what, darling?" he asked just as softly.

"Everything." A wealth of anguish crossed her face before she hid it behind a solid mask of indifference.

Sadness filled him at the pain inside her. "Perhaps you've been looking at the wrong males," he whispered, lowering his head until his lips were an inch from hers. "Come to the ball. See for yourself," he coaxed, running a single finger down the back of her hand.

She peered up at him for a heated moment. "I will consider it."

"When you come, I'll tell you of my aviary and my mews," he enticed. "And of the hawk that rides my wrist when I hunt."

She narrowed her eyes. "That was very underhanded, silver tongue."

"Did it work?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Loki laughed and stepped back out of her way. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Miss Evangeline."

"Do not celebrate yet, silver-tongue. I have a full day to gird myself against your enticements," she said as she walked away, her primaries twitching like the tail of a cat. 

He rumbled a sound of pure pleasure. He was going to enjoy this pursuit. 

When Natasha returned to his side, a smirk of avid amusement at his expense on her lips, he could only grin down at her. “Tell me everything.”

***

Steve looked up when the party returned, slipping silently into the parlour unannounced. They were finished tea, having spent a pleasant afternoon with Lizzy and Sif regaling them with childhood exploits and adventures. 

The rest of his weyr flowed in and out of the conversation with an ease born of familiarity. Hope had been happy to hand Cassy to Sif when the hatchling burbled and cooed, and he’d watched Thor turn soft and mushy when Sif cooed back. 

He supposed he had the same look about him when Lizzy cuddled Cassy. Such was the way of things. 

But the moment Natasha slipped into the room, he rose to his feet and stalked her across it. “Natalia,” rumbled like a landslide. 

“Oh, shit,” Barton murmured, stepping out of the way and looking innocently at the ceiling. 

“Steven?” Lizzy called, her brows drawn in confusion. 

“I need a word with my beta, darling. Nothing to worry about.” He hustled her out of the room with a hand on her elbow before rounding on her. He didn’t give her a chance to prevaricate. “I can smell her on you.”

“I knew I should have bathed,” she muttered.

“Natalia,” he growled, red running into his vision. “Why do you smell of Miss Martin? What has the female been up to now?”

She placed her hands lightly on his crossed arms, her wings lowering down her back. “It is nothing, Colonel. Barton and I took care of it. Loki came along for the assist had we needed it.”

His wings flared high and wide behind him. “Tell me!”

She flinched beneath his snap of _Will_ and bared her throat. “Martin came here, seeking an audience with you. Loki, Clint, and I dissuaded him of attempting such a foolish action, explained what his daughter had been attempting, and returned him to the village. He and his wayward daughter are now ensconced in a coach that has been given strict orders to drive hard for Leeds. They will be well away from here by now.”

Steve relaxed, his wings lowering. “I see. Why would Martin come here? After your raven, he shouldn’t have dared.”

Her face shut down.

“Natalia.”

“No, Steve.” 

He frowned. “Why won’t you tell me? What did she do?”

Natasha’s wings ran to black. “Trust me when I say I took care of it, alpha. They will not interfere with us or this weyr again. They know the consequences if they should try. I made it abundantly clear.”  

He wanted to insist, but something about her stance said he didn’t want to know. “Tell me why I shouldn’t know?”

She sighed. “Because there are four Warlord alphas in close proximity. One newly mated, one whose mate has clutched, one who is in rut, and one who is now in hot pursuit of his newfound mate.”

Steve blinked, shocked by her statement. “Loki found her? Already? Where?”

“At the inn of all places,” Natasha chuckled. “You’ll never guess who she is.”

“Who?” he asked, completely forgetting about the Martins.

She smiled a hit of fangs. “Miss Evangeline Walsh.”

Steve sucked in air, then burst out laughing. 

***

Lizzy was still giggling later that night when she wandered into the library. Mister Mischief - as Sif called him - would have a difficult time with Evangeline. While not close friends, she’d known the Walshes for years and even used the same solicitor. 

Evangeline was lovely and elegant, exotic with her shock of white hair, but if people thought Lizzy and Constance opinionated, Evangeline was downright blunt. The woman - though an omega - had no time and less tolerance for males of any caste, was known to wear men's clothing and could hunt, fight, and duel as well as any man. 

She cared nothing for public opinion and had no qualms about telling the men who came to call she wasn’t interested, and they had no hope of changing her mind. She was abrasive, often rude, and took a lot of work to get to know. She rarely participated in the seasons, had inherited her family’s entire fortune when she’d turned twenty summers, announced herself firmly on the shelf, and hid away in her family manor with her hobbies.

Lizzy adored her when she made an appearance and never begrudged her friendship though it had been ages since they’d had tea. She hoped Evie would come to the ball, be as outlandish as ever, and renew their acquaintance. 

After spending the evening with Loki, she also hoped Evie would succumb to the rascal’s charms. They were well matched, the silver-tongue and the blunt.

The ball couldn't come soon enough in her opinion.

After a night of entertainment, they had gone to bed, but Lizzy - still worried about Peter - had thrown on her dressing gown to venture into the library to see if he’d come down from Bruce’s tower. Even the doctor had made an appearance at supper, but Peter was nowhere to be found. 

Until now. 

As she peered through the doorway into his nest, Lizzy found the boy in the center collapsed in fitful sleep. She ducked inside and curled up around him, offering comfort in a little quiet purr. Immediately he calmed and settled into a deeper sleep, nuzzling down into the pillows with a content sigh. 

Lizzy lightly stroked his hair; her need to mother the boy ever-present, and covered him with her wing. She should really go to bed but couldn’t bear to pull herself away when Peter clearly needed her. Instead, she lay there, thinking about her life. About Steven and his weyr, and the wonderful people she’d met lately. It had only been days, but she’d never felt more at home than she did right here.

When the shadows shifted, she glanced toward the door to find her alpha filling it and held out her hand. 

Steven only chuckled and came to her side, crawling in behind her. His giant wing stretched over the three of them, his soft rumble soothed away the worries of the day, and Lizzy dropped into sleep between one breath and the next.  


End file.
